Cliche Isn't In My Vocabulary
by BlackSkinnyJeans101
Summary: We're all tired of that cheesy, overused plot where Max moves. But this one is going to be different. Max knew it wasn't worth the fight. She wasn't one to make friends easily. She absolutely hated talking to people. All of this makes her mom worried and ends with her in a therapist's office. Then there's the relationship budding with two quiet teenagers. Full summary inside. FAX
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Hehe... here I am with another story. About my other ones... I dunno. I just kind of lost interest in them. I think I'll try to continue them later on, but I'm not sure. Anyway, here's the full summary of my NEW and IMPROVED story:**  
_

_Summary: We're all tired of that cheesy, overused plot where Max moves. I have used it multiple times and we've all at least tried to use it. This one is going to be different. Sure, there's still going to be some romance and all that stuff with some drama. But, this will probably stick out harshly from all of the other Max Moves stories._

_Max knew it wasn't worth the fight. She wasn't one to make friends easily. She absolutely hated talking to people. All she wanted to do was curl under her blankets with her iPod and she'd be happy. It doesn't make since that she doesn't mind moving. All of this makes her mom worried and ends with her in a therapist's office. With both her therapist and her mother on her back, she has no choice but to do as they say. This is what ends her on the cross country team at school._

_With her high-school life looking boring, there has to be some way to spice it up. Senior year romance, anyone?_

_FAX and NIGGY with later pairs. I dunno why but my cursing has escalated, which is why this is T. Well, for that and for make-out moments and all of that stuff. It's not like there's a curse word every sentence, but they'll pop up. Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

_Chapter One_

"Please, Max."

"I said no."

"PLEASE, MAX?!"

"If I say _Hell to the fucking no _will it get it through your head?"

"Max, language!"

"She's annoying me! It's not my fault!"

"Ella, stop annoying your sister."

"But Max _always _gets the big room!"

"That's because I'm the oldest, idiot."

"Max, be nice to your sister!"

I throw my hands in the air, which effectively sends my hands crashing into the ceiling of the car. "Shit!" I yell, and Ella laughs loudly from the back seat of our stupid minivan. Mom glances over at me from where she was focusing her eyes on the road.

"Maximum, Angel and Gazzy are in the car, too!" she scolds.

"It's not my fault! Ella is annoying me and you're always on her side!" I exclaim.

She huffs, "Maybe I should've left you with your grandfather," she says under her breath.

"That's what you always say," I reply, "but it never happens."

Let me explain all of this to the audience in my head because I'm sure you're interested. We –as in my family of five- have been in this cursed minivan for the past two days. Most families would stop at a motel, but we aren't able to afford a motel, so that wasn't an option. Instead, I had to drive halfway while my mom slept in the back seat; Ella isn't old enough to drive yet. You take all of this and add it to the fact that Ella has been whining about me getting the big room in the new house the whole time. Not only that, but I have a little brother named Gazzy that has extreme digestive issues; little space plus him is a death wish.

Angel interrupts my train of thought, "Mama are we there yet? Gazzy keeps poking me and I'm hungry and I have to go potty!" she pouts.

Mom sighs, "Angel you went to the bathroom an hour ago."

"Well, I don't really have to go. But Gazzy keeps… cutting the cheese and I need an excuse to get us to stop so I can get out." Her big blue eyes were _tearing up _because of her brother's digestive system problem; I snicker to myself. Mom shoots me a look that I ignore; I go back to staring out my window and listening to the "Panic! At the Disco" album on my iPod.

Right, I was explaining to you why we're in the car and driving for two days. Well, this is going to be where my life turns into a big cliché story because we're moving. I'm not going to start complaining about how I had a perfect boyfriend back in Maine or about how I never wanted this to happen. Because I've never had a perfect boyfriend in my life and I could care less about us moving. The only problem I have with it is the fact that mother insisted that we drive instead of spending a whole load of money on a plane ride. We don't even have money for a one-night stay in a motel let alone a plane ride for five people.

If you want to know how we possibly bought a house in Arizona, we didn't. The house is paid for us by Mom's company; she's a veterinarian, but we're tight on money right now. We're trying to pay off all the hospital bills for when Angel had to get treated for some weird disease that almost killed her. So, we're driving 2,793 miles to get to this new place so Mom can get to work. She's hoping this move will put her in a place where she can work more and earn more. I doubt it, though, considering we're moving to a small town; well, it's small compared to the town we used to live in.

"AH!" Ella suddenly screeched right next to my _freaking _ear.

I glared at her through the rearview mirror, "WHAT?!" I exclaimed angrily. It didn't matter that I had my music playing loudly in my ears; she knew better to mess with me when I'm pissed. She's done everything she possibly can to get on my nerves this trip.

"I thought I saw a spider, but it was just a piece of black fuzz. I'm fine," she waved her hand in the air.

Mom breathed out, "Ella-," she starts.

"Seriously Mom, I'm fine," she says immediately.

I snort and roll my eyes, "She wasn't worried about you, idiot. She was going to tell you to stop being so damn overdramatic."

"Maximum Arianna Martinez!" Mom snapped at me.

"What?! I'm not the one freaking out over _every little thing_!"

"Language, young lady! There are young children in the car!" she hissed.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, "They aren't paying attention, anyway! Angel's coloring and Gazzy's too busy trying to keep in his atomic blasts that he could care less!" I point out smartly. Mom finally huffed and stopped trying to reason with me because we both know it's pointless.

We were passing a town at this point, which was a relief after passing a field for an hour. People were walking around in really short shorts or –in the case of guys- they were shirtless. Not one person was wearing jeans or a shirt that completely covered their stomach. Well, there were some guys wearing complete shirts because it'd be weird if the guys were wearing crop-tops. I looked down at my grey skinny jeans, black and red checkered top with the sleeves rolled to my elbows, and black Converse. Well, I was so going to fit in here; if you didn't see the sarcasm in that then please go get some _help_.

"Mom," Ella leaned forward between my seat and Mom's. "Do we have any money to get Max and I some new clothes?" she asked.

Immediately, I turned and glared at her, "Stop right there. You know that we don't have money to go shopping. Sit back in your seat and shut up; if you really want clothes, then cut up yours to look like the slutty clothing the rest of these bimbos are wearing. And don't ask again," I ordered; Mom didn't say anything but her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Ella pouted but sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and muttering something about bullying.

Mom patted my knee for a second, silently thanking me but refusing to make eye-contact. My beaten and cracked iPod Nano switched from "Panic! At the Disco" to "Icon For Hire". I tapped my fingers on my leg as we continued driving past the town that was what you would expect a town to look like. I doubt you want me to go in a rant about how the buildings were tall and short, brick and wood. Oh, and look there's a grocery store! Because you totally care about what a normal town looks like; I only go on mental rants when it's entirely needed, just so you know.

It wasn't that long until we pulled up in the driveway of our new home. If you're waiting for me to think: "OMG! It's so big! I can't wait to go inside and jump on my huge new bed in my huge new room!" then you're obviously reading the wrong thing, my dear. The house was… average. For one thing it was simply only two stories, it was a faded yellow color, and the shutters were dark blue. There was a one car garage off to the side, which is fine since I don't own a car anyway. Three concrete stairs led up to a crappy concrete "porch" that didn't even cover the whole front wall of the house.

A simple tree swing hung from the huge oak tree that was right in front of the house. There was no fancy white picket fence and we didn't have a whole lot of farm land. Please, the sidewalk was less than four steps away from the concrete steps leading to the door. At least the grass was dark green and the huge oak trees provided some shade for us. Mom pulled up in front of the garage that required you to get out of the car and open it if you wanted to pull your car in. She turned off the car and pulled the key out; we all kind of just sat in silence for a minute or two.

"Well," she finally said hesitantly, "let's try to make the best of it."

I snort, grab my old and damaged brown leather messenger bag from the floor, and get out. "Nice pep talk," I mutter; she shoots me an irritated look, but doesn't reply. Mom goes to pull the sliding doors open to let the twins get out; Ella slumps out of the car. She should be happy that we aren't living in what could be described as a trailer anymore.

"Max," Mom calls, making me turn around just in time to catch the keys she was tossing me. "The movers will be here any second. Would you mind going inside and figure out which rooms the twins and I are getting? Oh, and open some windows too, please," she asks.

I shrug my bag higher up onto my shoulder, "Sure. Come on Ella," I drag her with me.

We trudge up the concrete steps where I push the key into the rusty lock. After a lot of tugging and twisting, I manage to force the door to swing open. I cough as a cloud of dust flies up into my face; Ella laughs at me, which causes her to start coughing, too. I smirked and went inside, blinking rapidly to get the dust out of my eyes before they start to water. Ella starts in the tiny kitchen while I go to the living room; we start opening all the windows to let in some fresh air. As soon as you step inside you're at a staircase then there's a door to the left that leads into what I could only guess was the small master bedroom.

To the right is the living room along with a short hallway that ends at a back door. After passing the living room, you get to the second door in the hall, which is the kitchen. The kitchen has this alcove place where you can put your dining table, I guess. Beside the "master" bedroom is a small bathroom that I suppose is also the "master" bathroom. After opening every window downstairs, I jog upstairs where Ella is already snooping around to find what room she wanted. Right beside the stairs is a bedroom with a bedroom across from it, and there's another bedroom down the hall with a small bathroom.

The last bedroom is basically at the very back of the house, but it had a view of the back yard. All of the bedrooms were pretty much the same size- small. I opened the windows in the last bedroom and then went back downstairs where I found a half-bathroom that I had passed. You know what a half-bathroom is- where there's only a toilet and a sink with no shower or anything. Now, with that long and boring explanation of the house over with, I went back outside to help Mom with the little bit of stuff we had in the van. Not surprisingly, Ella had already ditched helping us to text some of her friends; the twins were on the tree swing already.

* * *

I had "All Time Low" blasting out of my iPod speakers as I stripped to get in painting clothes. By painting clothes I basically mean some pink sweatpants that I have _never _worn. I only have them because Ella gave them to me for my 17th birthday last year when she knew I would hate them. That's why I'm allowing them to get ruined with paint along with the ugliest rainbow tank-top I own. The tank was a present from Ella as well except it was from my 15th birthday; she gives me stuff I hate in the hopes I'll give it to her. I dip my painting roller into the dark, dark purple paint I had in a pan on my new hard white-purple floor.

The choices for my walls were either dark purple or dark blue. I figured the dark purple would go better with my floor, so that's basically all I'm going to be doing for the next couple of hours. Since you obviously don't care about how I danced around my empty room while painting, I'll move on. After about three and a half hours of just painting my room, it was time to get everything into my room. I dragged the parts of my metal bed into the room and then got to work on putting it together. It was a canopy bed except I don't put the canopy over my bed, so I just had the poles up.

"Max!" Ella ran into my bedroom after another hour of me working on my room. She glanced around and wrinkled up her nose at the smell of the fresh paint. After she realized I was staring at her, she continued, "Oh, right. Mom says that Nana left you some antiques and the mover people are going to just put them outside of your bedroom so you can bring them in or whatever."

I nod, "Cool."

She just stands there, watching me put the last pole on. "What?" she snaps after I stare back at her.

"Get out," I snap back, gesturing to my door.

Rolling her eyes, she stomps back out, "Mom said we're having cereal for dinner!"

"Whatever," I yell back.

So, I had chosen the bedroom with the view of the backyard in case you were wondering. Ella was on the second floor with me and the twins; Mom, of course, got the "master" bedroom. All the bedrooms were the same size, so it didn't really matter what bedroom we grabbed. The twins had to share a room like always, but they were more than fine with it; they each got a half of the room. See, all that arguing about the big room in the car was completely useless now. I had a migraine the enter ride for no reason; that just isn't fair to my poor brain- it deserves better.

"MAX! Froot Loops or Frosted Flakes?!" Gazzy screamed from downstairs.

"Froot Loops!" I screamed back; pulling my mattress onto the spine of my bed; that sounded weird.

"WHAT?!" he screamed back; I sighed. After getting my mattress situated, I went downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

The next day was filled with unpacking all of our stuff and trying to get situated. I think moving in was the absolute worst part of this whole thing. It wasn't because of the work it required; it was because of how many times I had to hear Ella screech about breaking a nail. Not only that, but the twins got to run around the backyard while I was in the sweltering heat trying to get my room done. The antique items Nana got me turned out to be a dark purple-black vanity table with a matching stool that had a lighter purple seat. Along with that was a matching glass wardrobe thing that I used to set up all my trophies from my high-school years.

She also gave me a pink fat vase with orange flowers painted on it; I put that on the top of the wardrobe. The last things she gave me were an old oval mirror with a gold frame. The thing was ancient and you could see it in the way the frame was so carefully made. Two simple walls lights came in the same box as the mirror, which I got my mom to help me set up; they were pretty easy to put in. With all that set up, I stuck the last thing up- a tiny and fake chandelier; it went above my bed. Then I made up my bed with purple stuff and declared my room finished after I got the other side set up.

All the other half of my room has was my dresser, my floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and iPod radio. I went downstairs, "Hey, Mom?!" I called, jumping the last couple of steps. The living room wasn't done yet, but Angel was sitting on the floor and playing with her dolls.

"She's out back," Angel called to me.

I went over to her and ruffled her light blonde curls, "Hey, munchkin, what are you doing?"

"Playing Barbie and Ken die on a rollercoaster," she grinned at me brightly.

Clearing my throat, I had to remind myself that imagination was good for a young mind. This is what happens when I have a little sister; Ella just turned out badly. I smile awkwardly back at Angel, "That's great, Ange, but kind of violent." Her innocent blue eyes stared back at me; she and Gazzy were the spitting image of our dad, I swear; Ella was the image of Mom, and I was a mix of both.

"I know," was all she said, "Mom's in the backyard, though. She's mowing the lawn, I think," she shrugged her shoulders.

Oh, the minds of innocent children; just wait until they grow up and realize how shitty reality really is. "Okay, thanks babe," I said and kissed the top of her head. She giggled as I left the unfinished living room and headed for the backdoor; Mom was mowing the lawn. Gazzy was playing in the sprinkler completely dressed and Mom looked too busy to notice. I laughed at my little brother as he ran through the water with his arms spread out like he was a bird. "Mom!" I scream over the roar of the lawn mower.

She stops and turns it off to turn and look at me. "What is it, Max?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I wanted to know if I could take the van and go get some groceries for the house."

"Yeah, sure, but take the twins with you. The keys are on the kitchen counter, and please fill up the tank on your way back," she commands. I nod and grab the back of Gazzy's shirt before he can go running into the sprinkler again.

"Come on, Munchkin," I tug him towards the house, "You have to dry off and get changed because we're going to the store." Gazzy was struggling in my hold, but it was no use.

He finally huffs and stops struggling, "I don't want to go."

"And I don't care."

"Fine," he groans and goes upstairs to his bedroom while I go to tell Angel to put on her shoes.

She happily jumps up to run and find her shoes; I go up to my bedroom. Looking down at my sweat-drenched clothing, I knew I needed to change into something for hot weather. With a sigh, I lock my door and then strip down before going to the boxes of clothes I haven't unpacked yet. I pull a grayish-green tank top over my head with a grey wolf's head on the front; the sleeves stopped after covering my shoulders. Along with the tank, I pull on some dark jeans short-shorts with three silver buttons. I slip into my favorite black combat boots and go over to my vanity mirror.

I winced at the reflection of my hair flying in all directions. I unceremoniously yank a brush through my hair until the tangles were gone. My blonde waves fell down my back and I settled a grey beanie on my head with my fringe still swooping over my left eye. With that done, I put three bracelets on my left wrist and then I leave my bedroom with my iPod in hand. Angel and Gazzy were already at the front door, arguing about what type of ice cream was better- vanilla or chocolate. They were to the point of glaring at each other with their arms crossed when I came down the stairs.

"Alright," I clapped my hands a few times, "Let's go."

They huffed and left the house after I snatched the keys and my mom's credit card from the kitchen counter. Ignoring each other, they shuffled to the van. "I'm giving you the silent treatment," Gazzy declared with a short, cute little glare at Angel.

Angel turned to him and stuck out her tongue, "I was giving you the silent treatment first!"

"Nah-uh!" he yells.

"Yeah-huh!" she screams.

I laugh at them, "Get in the van and start the silent treatment now. The first one to talk to the other loses," I pat their shoulders.

Angel hops into the car first, settling into her seat beside the window. Gazzy gets in, staring out through the window on his own side; I roll my eyes at the eight-year-olds. They kept silent for the ride, at least, but it was when we entered the store that they started up again. It was fine for the first five minutes of them just walking on either side of the cart, one hand on the front like Mom made them do. They tended to get into trouble when they weren't hanging onto the cart. I was looking at a box of Hamburger Helper, contemplating on what kind I wanted for dinner when the two started.

"Hey!" Angel yelled, "You just pushed the cart into me!" she glared at Gazzy.

I ignored their yelling, picking up a different kind of Hamburger Helper. Gazzy pouted, "I did not, you liar!" he yelled back.

"Yes you did!" and she shoved the front of the cart towards him.

He gasped dramatically when the cart lightly touched his arm. "Ow! You're so mean!" he pushed the cart back at her. Once again, a dramatic gasp echoed down the aisle as the cart barely touched Angel's arm; she drops her hand from the cart.

"You're such a bully, _Zephyr_," she grinned smugly.

"Oh, no!" I laughed, "They're breaking out the real names, people! Back up!"

Angel smirks like she had won some trophy when Gazzy exclaimed, "No, you are, _Ariel_!"

Her mouth dropped open like Gazzy had called her a curse word. "Max!" she turned to me, "Did you hear what he called me?!" she exclaimed. I finally just threw a random box into the cart and moved on to see what kind of coffee they had in this place. "Max!" Angel exclaimed, trying to get my attention.

Gazzy sticks his tongue out at Angel, "Haha! She's ignoring you!"

Angel crossed her arms, "No, she isn't! She's just so mad at you that she can't even look anywhere near you!"

"Nah-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

This is the point where I pulled my iPod out of my back pocket. I put in my ear-buds and started to listen to "Black Veil Brides" on the high setting. Angel and Gazzy were still going at it, getting looks from people that were passing us or our aisle. I was calmly picking out food and setting it in our cart while wondering how long it would take this time for the twins to make up. They were those kinds of siblings that got over an argument in a few minutes. They were practically stuck at the hip after they turned one and a half and started toddling around together.

Someone finally tapped me on the shoulder, "Ma'am?" they said.

I sighed and pulled out my ear-buds, "Yes?" I looked the girl up and down. If you're wondering what she looked like then she had brown hair, green eyes, and some glasses sitting on her nose.

She bit her lip almost nervously, "I was wondering if the two kids running around belong to you."

"Running around?" I raised an eyebrow, "They're right he-," I turn to look at my siblings. Sure enough, both of them were gone, and I hadn't even noticed it. "Whoops," I murmured and quickly ran away from the girl and away from the aisle. "Gazzy! Angel!" I yelled, skidding to a stop when I saw a flash of blonde hair in an aisle. Gazzy was running down it, laughing while his spiky blonde hair flies behind him; I groan because I was so not in the mood for games.

"Come on, Max!" Gazzy yells at me over his shoulder.

I take off down the aisle after him, but the little sucker is freaking fast. He turns a sharp corner and I follow him, barely managing to dodge a startled lady with her cart. Gazzy turned down another aisle just as Angel came running from the same one, heading away from me. "Angel! Get back here!"

She only laughed, "No thank you!"

"I'll get you ice cream!" I bribed.

Immediately she stopped running and turned around to face me as I finally caught up. "Really?" she asked with big, hopeful eyes.

"Yeah, but you have to help me get Gazzy," I touched her nose.

She nodded eagerly, "I'll get him for you!" and she ran off just like that.

While she was getting our brother, I went to get my cart to take it up to pay. The same girl was at the register, and she smiled when I started unloading everything onto the conveyer belt. "Hello!" she chirped in a tone that I found way too happy for a girl that works in a store. "I'm JJ," she introduced herself as she started scanning things and bagging them since no one else was there to do it.

"Max," I reply shortly, glancing around for the twins.

She nods, "Cool, so are you guys new in town?"

"Yeah… how'd you know?"

"When you've lived here since you were born, you kind of know everyone."

"Oh," was all I said.

She nodded, "So, did you find your kids?"

I burst out laughing for a few minutes, "Oh, God, no. They aren't my children; I'm seventeen and a half," I laugh some more. JJ flushes bright red, typing something on her screen for the bag of apples she had in her hand.

"Oh, my bad," she mumbles, "They just look like you, I guess."

"They're my siblings," I grin.

"That makes more sense," she giggles, "So, does that mean you'll be starting school in a couple of days?" she raised an eyebrow. "Your total is $78.45."

I swiped Mom's credit card, "Yeah. Only five more days of freedom," I laughed a bit.

She nodded, "Yeah, but you'll get used to Stoneville High soon enough. And, hey, if you ever need a guide around or if you want to sit with someone at lunch then there's always me." I start loading the bags into the cart just as Angel comes up to me with a bright smile. She had Gazzy slumping after him with his ear; she was basically dragging him over to me.

"Thanks," I give JJ the best grimace I can muster. "Bye," and I leave with a small wave.

Angel and Gazzy argue as soon as they're buckled up in the back seat; I stop at the gas station to fill up. The guy behind the counter, Dylan, flirted with me the entire time the van was filling up. He kept saying he was the quarterback and shit like that while I really couldn't care less. As soon as the van was full, left the station in the middle of his sentence; I didn't even wave at him. I just let the door slam shut behind me, got in the van with the twins, and screeched out of there. I hope my exit told him that I wasn't interested and he could go bang himself for all I care.

"Ella," I yell as I step into the house and throw the keys onto the kitchen counter.

She emerges from her bedroom, "What?!" she yells back, looking annoyed.

"Groceries, come help!" was all I said before going back outside. She took her lovely time coming downstairs; she was so slow that we had everything inside before she reached the floor. She's such a priss.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

"Max! Get up! You only have an hour to eat and get dressed!"

"I don't wanna get up!"

"You have to!" Ella slammed her fist against my locked door.

"Too bad! Senior year can wait! Now, let me sleep some more!"

"MOM!" Ella stomped downstairs.

I smirked and buried my head in my multiple pillows to go back to sleep. School started today if you haven't already guessed and I really, _really _didn't want to go. Ella had been trying to wake me up for the past fifteen minutes, and now I guess she finally gave up. It's not that I'm socially awkward or anything; I mean, I'm more of a "talk to me and you'll probably die of annoyance" type, but whatever. It's also not like I'm nervous because I'm really not; I just want to sleep. As you could tell for yourself, I'm not one that's good with people; I hate making conversation.

"MAXIMUM ARIANNA MARTINEZ IF YOU DON'T GET UP RIGHT NOW, YOU DON'T GET PANCAKES!" Mom screamed from downstairs.

In two seconds I was out of my bed, downstairs, and sitting at our dining table. "Four please," I smile as best as I can at my mother, who rolled her eyes at me. The only way I'll ever smile in the morning is for food; other than that, I don't smile or make any kind of conversation. Mom threw four pancakes on my plate and I reached across the table for the maple syrup.

"Max, don't reach across the table," Mom said without looking at me.

I froze, halfway across the table to get the syrup, "But, I've already gone so far," I protest. Mom sighs and I take that as my cue to go the other half and grab the bottle. I drench my pancakes in the syrupy goodness and then dig in without a pause.

Angel came skipping downstairs, "Good morning!" she cheered. I glanced up and wrinkled up my nose at the sight of her pink sundress and white sandals. Mom was doing her best to make sure none of her daughter's turned out like her eldest- aka, me. "Max, you aren't even showered yet?!" Angel exclaimed with wide eyes when she saw my state of dirtiness.

Swallowing my bite of soaked pancake, I replied, "Nope," and went back to eating.

"Well, you have to go shower! Right now!"

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!"

"Who says?"

"_Who said, who said you're not perfect_?" Ella came downstairs, singing that God forbidden song.

I covered my ears, "SHUT UP! STOP IT!" I screamed over Ella's horrible song. No offence to the pop star that sings that, but that was the last type of music I would ever listen to. Ella smirks at me, sitting down at the table and thankfully keeping her mouth shut.

Mom sighed, "Max, you do need to go get ready."

"But I didn't finish my-," I paused as I looked down and saw my plate empty. "Oh," I muttered.

"Yeah, _oh_. So, pick your butt up out of that seat, march yourself upstairs, and get ready for school because you need to leave in forty minutes if you want to make it on time."

I get up and went upstairs to the small bathroom I had to share with Ella and the twins. Basically, I showered, got out, wrapped a towel around me, went to my bedroom, and searched for clothes. After about three minutes I threw on my favorite white Ramones shirt. Then I pulled on some cuffed black short-shorts since all of my knee-length shorts are dirty. I put on some black Vans, laced up the black strings, and went to my vanity to do something with the blonde mess I call hair. Yanking a brush through the soaking wet strands, I get out all the tangles before blow drying the blonde mess.

With that done, I brush my hair again and don't bother doing anything else with it. I fix my bangs to swoop across my forehead and kind of covered my left eye. All of that took me a total of twenty minutes including my shower; Ella wasn't even ready yet and she got started thirty minutes before me. I went back downstairs with my leather messenger bag over my shoulder. Gazzy was watching cartoons on the couch we had just randomly pushed into the room since the walls were still drying. I ruffle his hair and then go back to the kitchen where Mom was packing lunches for the twins.

"Are you working today?" I ask, hopping onto the countertop.

She glances at me, "No, I'm starting tomorrow. Today, I'm going to finish the living room and the kitchen; I want us to get settled in so this actually feels like a home." She runs her hands down her apron and goes over to the oven as the timer goes off. She pulls out a huge pan of chocolate chip cookies and saliva instantly floods my mouth.

"COOKIES!" I yell and jump off the counter to run over to my mom.

"Maximum!" she yells, but I'm already snatching four cookies off of the tray. They burn my hands, but I shove two into my mouth without a pause. I start jumping around, trying to cool my mouth off while my mom gives me that "how are you even my daughter?" look. "If you would have listened to me, that wouldn't have happened."

I shrugged as I finally managed to get the cookies down my throat, "Oh well."

Ella came running downstairs, "We have to leave now or we'll miss the bus! Let's go!" she shouted.

She charged out the front door while I calmly took the bag of cookies my mom was handing me. Then I grabbed Angel's hand in mine and she grabbed Gazzy's before we left. Mom yelled goodbye until we were around the corner and on our way to the bus stop. Ella was already there, sitting on the bench in her red and black plaid mini-skirt, white top with elbow-length sleeves, and black stilettos. You could obviously tell who was going to be extremely uncomfortable all day. It's Ella, if you didn't get it; I would be uncomfortable, too, but it wouldn't be because of my shoes.

"Max," Angel whined, tugging on my hand, "I'm so excited! But, what if people don't like me? What if I don't make any friends? What if someone picks on me? What if the teachers don't like me? What if I get in trouble? What if-," I cut her off this time.

"Ange," I sigh, "You'll be fine. Stop with all the "what if's", you're giving me a migraine."

Ella rolled her eyes, "That is the worst advice ever. Come here, Angel, I'll give you the do's and don'ts of 3rd grade," she pats the bench seat next to her.

While they started talking, I took my iPod out of my bag. Gazzy was running around the bust stop sign, his hand wrapped around it as he ran in circles over and over again. I started blasting "Red Jumpsuit Apparatus" while leaning against the box thing over the bench of the bus stop. Soon enough, the bus pulled up in front of us and I went on first, dropping down in the first open seat I found. Gazzy sat down next to me since he didn't have any friends yet; Angel and Ella sat across the aisle from us. The bus lurched forward while I drowned out the sound of teenagers by messing around with my iPod.

* * *

So, I'll skip the part of where it took twenty minutes until the bus pulled up in front of the school. I'll jump straight to the part where I'm at my new locker with my schedule in hand. Ella had disappeared to her hall since she's a junior and I'm a senior. I didn't bother with my locker combination and instead hit the side of my fist into the bright green door. It swung open with ease and I threw my bag in, only grabbing the one pencil and the only notebook I brought with me. Everything else in my bag is the clothes that I need for gym along with some of my running shoes.

"Max!" JJ from the store came running up to me when I was heading for my homeroom.

I sighed, but stopped walking so she could catch up; I didn't feel like talking. You think she would know that since I was listening to my iPod and not looking at anyone around me. "Sup?" was all I said.

"Nothing much! Did you take the bus or do you have a car? I have a car! I mean, it's a crappy car because it always breaks down, but still!" she smiled brightly. This is probably where a normal, cliché person would answer her with the same amount of enthusiasm she was using.

However, I'm neither normal nor cliché, so I deadpan, "Bus."

She looked kind of defeated as if she expected me to reply happily and we'd be best friends. Yeah, no; I really just want to get through this day and then go home to sleep. "Oh," JJ says, "Cool. So, have you met anyone else yet? Because if you haven't then you can totally sit with me and my friends during lunch!" she grinned brightly. I had to blink a few times because I swear her smile almost _blinded _me; this girl was off her rocker with all of her happiness.

"Um, I was just… I'll think… Maybe."

"Great! Well, I gotta go, but good luck!" and she left just like that.

I wasn't late to class; I got a seat around the middle of the classroom. On one side of me was a window, and I shrugged on my black hoodie to put up my hood. Then I slipped my ear-buds up my sleeves and covered my ears with my hands so the ear-buds could get in my ears. I listened to my music while the teacher was rambling at the front of the classroom. However, I did remove one ear-bud so I could take notes with one hand; we were in math, which is actually my best subject. Halfway through the class and I was so bored that I almost fell asleep; I knew everything this teacher was teaching.

"Hey," someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"What?" I asked without looking up from where I was writing more notes.

"Can I borrow a pencil?" the guy asks.

"Nope," I deadpan.

"Why not?" he sounded just like Angel when she whined because she didn't get what she wanted.

"Because," was all I said.

"Because why?" he continued to whine.

"Because I don't have an extra, dimwit."

"Oh," he paused, "You could've just said that in the first place. Hey, Holden," the dude turns to the guy behind him.

"Yeah?" the Holden character replied.

"Mind letting me borrow a pencil, man?"

"Sure," Holden gave him a pencil and I tuned them out again.

The guy turned back around and tapped me on the shoulder again, "You're new, right? I'm Ratchet."

"Stupid name," I replied.

"That's kind of harsh."

"Life is harsh."

"Come on, man, what's your name?"

"It sure as hell isn't man," I really wished this dude would leave me alone. Then the guy had the balls to _yank my hood down_, which effectively let my blonde hair fall around my shoulders. "What the hell?!" I hissed, turning around to glare at this "Ratchet" idiot.

Before Ratchet could reply, the teacher snapped, "Miss Martinez." I turned back around as the teacher, Mr. Hardy, walked up to the front of my desk. "Is there a problem here?" he raised an eyebrow; you're probably already thinking he's old and fat. However, he's actually quite young with black hair, green eyes, and he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He's not the typical teacher that you already expect when you see the word "teacher" in a story.

"Not at all," I ground out.

He gives me a disbelieving look before turning around and going back up to the front of the classroom. The people that were watching this scene play out looked away when I narrowed my eyes at them. "As I was saying," Mr. Hardy said while I pulled my hood back up on my head. It was Thursday, so it wasn't like a first day thing where teachers did roll-call and all that shit.

Ratchet tapped my shoulder, "Psst," he hissed.

I didn't answer so he repeated his actions; I sighed, "Hey, Ratchet?"

"Yeah?" he sounded hopeful as if I was actually going to start talking to him.

"Tap my shoulder again and you won't have that finger anymore by the time class ends." He stopped.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

The next two classes passed without anyone bothering me. Ratchet stopped even when I had to sit in front of him _again _in my third period Geography class. Now, it's time for lunch and the last thing I want to do is go in there and sit down with JJ like we're friends. Instead, I ignored the cafeteria all together and headed towards the place lunch detention was held. I didn't get lunch detention, but sitting in that old classroom was better than pretending that I belonged in one of the cliques here. Besides, that's what I did at my old school too; it was the last straw that was pulled before my mom freaked and sent me to a shrink.

In lunch detention, I sat down at the very back of the classroom. I put in my ear-buds and put my head down on my arms to take a nap. The hour passed by quickly, and I was soon leaving the classroom and going towards my next class. I can't play an instrument, so when I saw "Band" on my schedule, I laughed out loud at the irony of it. First of all, I can't play a guitar or any other cool instrument, and I can most definitely not sing to save my life. Seriously, I tried to sing a couple of years ago and a bird dropped out of a tree, paralyzed because of how bad and how off key I was.

"Dammit," I murmur, wondering if I should go through this stupid class. Or, I could ditch and go to the counselor's office to get it off of my schedule. It wasn't a hard decision; I went to the office to maybe switch band for a free period that I can spend sleeping in a corner of the library.

The walls of the office were bright yellow; I covered my eyes with my hand at the brightness. I ambled inside and made my way up to the desk. A lady looked up at me from behind it, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," I put my schedule on top of the desk, "I can't play an instrument."

"I can't help you with that…" she trails off awkwardly.

I drop my hand and roll my eyes, "What I mean is that I have band on my schedule. If I can't play an instrument…" I trailed off so the redheaded lady could catch on.

"So you having band makes no sense?" she furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yes! Congrats!" I exclaim sarcastically, "Now, can you just give me a free period or something?"

She takes my schedule and looks over it quickly. "Take a seat, will you? I'll see if there's an open spot in any of the other advisory classes. If there isn't, then I'll give you a free period, but you aren't supposed to get your free period until next semester." I turn around to take a seat when she speaks up again, "And drop your hood, Miss Martinez."

I drop into one of the completely uncomfortable seats and reluctantly pull my hood down. With all of the color in the room, it was easy to see the guy sitting on the other side of the room. He was sticking out from the wall in his dark jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket, and black combat boots. His hood was up and the lady wasn't making a move to try and snap at him. After a few seconds of just wondering to myself why the guy was in here, I shook my head and pulled out my iPod. As you can tell, the music I listen to is like a getaway from this hell hole called high-school.

"Damn!" I glare at my iPod, which now had a dead battery.

The redhead looked up, "Miss Martinez! You are not permitted to use that language on campus!"

I rolled my eyes, "Cool."

She was about to say something else when the phone on her desk rang. She picked it up and put it to her ear while I glanced around to find an outlet to charge my iPod. There was one under the chair beside mine, but I wouldn't be able to move the chair without moving the ones in a line beside it. Shrugging to myself, I put my foot on the edge of the seat and shove all the chairs down three feet. With the outlet exposed, I plugged in my iPod and pulled a chair out in front of me to kick back in my seat. I put my ear-buds into my ears and went through my playlists until I found the one for "Blood on the Dancefloor".

The redhead hung up the phone and looked at the dude dressed in almost all black. He wasn't paying any attention to her; he also had in some ear-buds while he stared out the window beside him. "Nick," Brigid called in a sickly sweet tone that made the guy and I wince. "Mr. Woodrow will see you now," she fluttered her fake eyelashes flirtatiously.

I, of course, had to comment, "Good lord, that is such a cougar move."

She startled, "What?" she asked incredulously.

"You basically just flirted with the poor guy. Don't be a cougar, lady. It's so messed up."

"I believe you're pardon," she gave me the evil eye.

The guy didn't say anything, but the tiniest of smirks curved up the left side of his mouth just barely. I shrugged, "Just making an observation. You're, like, twice his age and you are flirting with him like you were still in high school. I don't think your boss would like that very much."

She glared at me, but pressed a button and looked back at the Nick character, "Go on in."

"Yeah, before she jumps you."

"Miss Martinez, if you would be so kind as to be quiet," she pushed her fake red hair over her shoulder. This lady was nuts and she obviously didn't know how I worked. If you don't want me to talk, I'm going to talk; it's just the way I work.

"I don't know, I kind of feel like talking. But, I'll make you a deal. If you shut up, then I'll be quiet for a few minutes," I smirked; she didn't reply.

Grabbing a plain black notebook, the guy stood up and went to one of the three doors behind the redhead's desk. He pushed open the door and let it slam behind him. I went back to my music until the redhead called me back up to her desk. A little black thing that I didn't notice at first was sitting on her desk, plainly stating: Brigid Dwyer. Unfortunately, the band class was switched out for Spanish 3; I was hoping to avoid that class. I already went through the 1 and 2 classes in my freshman and sophomore years; the last thing I wanted to do was go through another semester of that torture.

* * *

School finally ended and I went home, not knowing about what was about to go down. When the bus parked at the bus stop, I hopped off with Ella, Gazzy, and Angel. The twins were talking happily about their days and about how many friends they made. Ella was texting, barely glancing at where she was walking; I literally had to grab her arm to steer her away from the road. Mom was at the house when we walked up the three stairs and pushed into the little yellow house. She was sitting in the kitchen at the dining table; her eyes were downcast at a glass of what I was guessing was lemonade.

"Max," she sighs, "we need to talk."

I groan, "Fine, but we have got to make it quick. I have homework that I need to procrastinate on," I grinned; she didn't crack a smile.

Her eyes flitted to my siblings in the doorway, "You guys go do something. This is between me and Max," she commanded without any sweetness like usual. Ella just shrugged and went to the finished living room, dropping down on the couch with her cell phone. The twins lingered, but eventually ran up to their bedroom to find something to play with.

"Okay," I dropped my bag on the counter and sat down across from her, "What's up?"

"The counselor's secretary called," Mom sighed. "Along with quite a few of your teachers that keep saying you aren't paying attention and your blasting your music at all times. Then three of them asked you to take down your hood and take out your headphones; you refused. This doesn't look good, Max, and then the call I got from the secretary was… outrageous. She was ready to send you to deal with the principal until I talked her out of it."

I protested, "She was hitting on a student!"

"That isn't the point, Maximum!" she snapped harshly. "The point is that this is how you were acting back in Maine, and you promised you wouldn't do it again. I might not have any other choice than to send you back to therapy," she exclaimed. "If this continues, if I get more calls from your teachers about your problem with not listening, and if you even get one detention, I'm going to find you a therapist. I know it's been hard since your dad-"

"No," I instantly cut her off, "Do _not _bring him into this."

She sighed, "Max, you need to try and be a normal kid. You need to make friends instead of drowning yourself in all this loud music that's ruining your hearing. And-"

"And I'm not Ella, Mom! I don't need friends to be happy! I don't need friends at all. All I need is my music and a goal in mind and I'm fine. Stop trying to make me make friends; stop trying to make me happy when I'm already perfectly fine. Okay? Just… just stop it!"

"Max, I just think that maybe if you did make some friends, that it would be better. This move is hard on all of us; I know it is, Max. I know that you pretended like you didn't care, but you did."

"Mom!" I stood up, "I get it, okay? I get it. I'll stop being happy to try and be normal."

I grab my bag and go up to my room with my mom yelling from behind me. "Maximum! Max, I'm not done talking to you!" she yelled at the foot of the stairs. I slam my bedroom door shut and lock it behind me; I toss my bag onto my bed with a sigh. Now, my options were to do my homework or I could grab my iPod and go for a run; I'm sure you could guess which one I did.

* * *

The next morning was uneventful as you could've guessed. I did the regular routine of showering, drying my hair, and finding a simple, quick outfit. Today was one of those days I really couldn't give a crap about it, so I dug through my piles of dark clothes. After a minute, I grabbed a black Batman tank top that was longer in the back and a pair of black short shorts with a studded pocket. With those on, I pushed my feet into some black combat boots that had a fur rim on the top. I tied them up and clipped multiple necklaces on before grabbing my usual bag and going downstairs.

Ella frowned when she saw me, "Could you be any more emo?"

"Could you be any more annoying?" I mocked her.

"Seriously, you look like your walking on the edge of death and life."

"That's exactly what I was going for. If only I had black hair, though. The blonde kills it all," I distastefully push my sun-streaked blonde hair over my shoulder. "Hey, have you seen my black hoodie? I could always just cover my cursed blonde hair with a dark hood."

Ella rolled her eyes, "You just don't know how lucky you are to have hair like that."

"I also don't know where I put that damn hoodie. Life's unfair. Get over it."

"Mom!" Ella yelled, "Max is bullying me again!"

"I am not!" I growl at her.

She shrugged, "Life's unfair. Get over it," she mocked me back. I glared at her just as Mom came walking downstairs looking completely exhausted. She was sticking in her earrings, wearing her usual jeans and polo shirt with her white coat buttoned up. She wasn't a normal veterinarian; she wore jeans, she wore her hair up, and she wore sneakers instead of heels. "Mom!" Ella exclaimed, "Max looks like she's miserable and that's such a bad image for us!"

"You said nothing about me changing clothes," I cut Ella off before she could continue.

Mom sighs, looking me over, "Couldn't you wear a little more color sometimes?"

"Depends on my mood," I shrug.

Ella snorts, "Yeah right, you always wear black and other dark stuff."

"My body," I snap at her, "I choose what I wear."

Mom rubs her temples, "I don't have time for any of this. Both of you go to school; Ella stop bothering Max with her choices in clothing. And where are the twins?" she left the foyer to find the two blonde demons that I last saw playing with a Barbie and a Power Ranger in their room.

I smirked at Ella, "See, Mom agrees with me."

"You could've at least worn some black heels," she tries. I look down her outfit of a jean mid-thigh skirt, a Wonderwoman t-shirt, and dark blue stilettos to match her shirt.

"Not on your life," I proclaim, "I like the shirt, but not the skirt or the shoes," I add, gesturing to her.

She looks down at her outfit, "It's cute but feminine! This is the stuff that you should be wearing, too," she crossed her arms over her chest.

Before I could retaliate, Angel and Gazzy came charging downstairs, "We're going, Mom!" they droned together. "We just wanted to play one more game," Gazzy whined. Mom rolled her eyes and threw Angel's princess backpack to her; Gazzy got a Transformer one thrown at him.

"All four of you get to school," she commanded and pointed to the front door. I complied reluctantly.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm really sorry about this chapter. It's all... paragraph-y and boring. But, I needed to get it over with. The ending and the next chapter will be entertaining enough to make this one worth it... I hope._

* * *

_Chapter Five_

You never know when you're going to make a new best friend. It could be in the library where someone just magically shows up to get a book for you that you can't reach. It could be in the classroom where a random person starts to talk to you for no absolute reason. Because, let's be honest here, no one has ever had the balls to turn to the new person in school and introduce themselves like they're already friends. I used to read stories where the new girl makes, like, twenty friends on the first day of school. It's been a two weeks at this school- currently Monday- and I haven't made one friend.

I'm not complaining because, as I told my mother, I don't need friends to be happy. But, I've stayed away from my music and my hoodie during class when my teacher is droning on and on and on. The last thing I want is to go see a shrink about my "problems with social interaction". Please, if I wanted to talk to people and make friends then I would talk to people and make friends. I'm not socially awkward, I don't hate myself, I don't have suicidal thoughts, and I don't have hateful parents that abuse me. The only thing a shrink will find really wrong with me is the fact that I prefer to be alone; alone and ignored.

"Alright class, pick up the sulfuric acid and poor a small amount into your measuring cup." Mr. Brandy instructs, showing us the purple liquid we had all made earlier. I wasn't really paying attention, so I forgot which one was supposed to be the sulfuric acid.

After a couple of seconds, I choose a random vial that looked like the one Mr. Brandy used. I wasn't one that tended to raise my hand or ask someone for some help. Besides, I didn't have a lab partner because I glared at anyone that tried to invite me to work with them. Picking up my purple liquid, I let four drops of what I figured was the "sulfuric acid" drop into the substance. I set the vial back on my desk and waited for it to bubble and boil like Mr. Brandy's did. However, instead, the acid started to rise to the top of the vial with everything in it boiling and sloshing around.

My eyes widened, "Hit the deck!" I screamed.

I was under my desk, covering my head within a couple of seconds. Students screamed after seeing the substance on my desk; they all scrambled to get under their desks. Not three seconds later, a loud explosion went off above my head; my desk split into two parts. Pieces of the ceiling were falling to the floor, and Mr. Brandy yelled at everyone to stay down. He got up, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and started putting out the fire that was spreading on other desks before the sprinklers could catch a whiff of smoke. Girls were screeching at the top of their lungs and guys were laughing loudly; Mr. Brandy looked pissed.

"Maximum Martinez!" he shouted over the screams of the prissy girls. "To the office, now!" he demands with his face flushed bright red.

I got to my feet, "It was an accident!" I protested.

He glared at me, "To the office right now!" he yelled again.

Grabbing my bag, I left the classroom while Mr. Brandy was getting everyone to calm down. I went to the office, and entered to find that Miss Dwyer was working at that desk today. She smirked at me as I dropped my bag on the ground by a chair and then plopped down in the chair. Pulling out my iPod, I stick in my ear-buds and sat back with my eyes shut to hopefully get a nap in. That idiot redhead was looking up at me every couple of seconds like she would catch me doing something wrong. It was weird feeling her gaze turning to me so often; I was starting to think she was a pedophile for all kinds.

"Mr. Ride, this was the fifth time this month," a voice said as a door opened. I opened my eyes and saw that Nick dude exiting the office; his face was expressionless. The principal was behind him, "You know I'm going to have to call your parents this time."

Nick shrugged, "Cool," was all he said.

The principal, Jonah Renegade, frowned deeply while Nick was still expressionless. "I'm sure they'll be disappointed in you Nicholas," he said.

"No, they won't be," he said simply.

Principal Renegade sighed, "Just take a seat Nicholas," he gestured to a chair. "Remember that you'll have Saturday detention for the next four months." Nick smirked like he was clearly proud that he was getting in trouble with the Principal; this dude was an idiot. Saturday's are my _life_.

Miss Dwyer spoke up, "Sir, you have another student to take care of." A sly look was given to me by the redhead herself, and I made a vow right then. The vow clearly stated that as soon as I graduated, I would punch her face in and then walk away like nothing happened. The bitch would deserve it anyway; she was around twenty-five and hitting on a maybe eighteen-year-old.

"Miss Martinez," Principal Renegade said dryly, "What have you done this time?"

You see, last week was a rough week for both me and Principal Renegade. Around that time, I was spiting my mother for threatening to send me to a shrink. I did everything I could to be sent down to the office so maybe my mom would see that I couldn't be helped. Yeah, I know I can be seriously stupid sometimes, but it was fun while it lasted. Not to mention that Principal Renegade knew my father and gave me warning after warning after warning. However, he said that last week was my week, but I would have to buckle down and be good this week; that obviously didn't happen thanks to a stupid accident.

"I think the question is what haven't I done," I tell him.

Principal Renegade sighs, "Might as well tell me before we get on with your punishment."

"It was a lab… incident," I hesitate to say.

"Miss Dwyer," he turned away from me, "What happened with Miss Martinez?"

Brigid Dwyer smiled, happily telling him about everything that happened this morning. When she finished, even Nick was staring at me with this look in his eyes. This look that clearly stated he had been in my situation, and he knew the consequence I would be receiving. Principal Renegade told Miss Dwyer to call the insurance company, and then he turned to me. He looked torn; he was probably torn between calling my mom or letting me go with another warning since it _was _an accident. Obviously, his inner principal caught up to him and he gestured for me to go into his office.

He pointed at Nick first, "I'll call your parents in twenty minutes. Don't move from that seat or I'll have no choice but to suspend you, got it?"

Nick shrugged, pulled out an iPod Nano that was black like mine, and he relaxed in his seat. Renegade shut the door behind us and gestured for me to take a seat while he dialed my mom's work number. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip; this was the last string that had to be pulled. I'd be in a therapist's office within the week and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Principal Renegade had already given me eleven warnings for my mild offences from last week; he couldn't do it again. He had warned me about this, and I was trying, but I guess when I try is when I fail miserably.

"Dr. Martinez," Principal Renegade broke me from my wandering thoughts. "I have Maximum here in my office, and I need to discuss with you the incident that happened today. I understand that you're at work and busy, so I'll make it as quick and painless as possible. It seems that Maximum was in science class and she had gotten distracted by something or other while doing an experiment. Long story short, her experiment blew up, broke her table, ruined the ceiling, and set fire to a few other desks." There was a pause as I heard my mother furiously apologizing on the other line. Principal Renegade nodded to himself, "Yes, I see your point.

"I know that Maximum is new in school and she must be upset about the move…" another pause. "Is that so?" he murmurs almost to himself; I mentally raise my eyebrows. "Even with that as the case, I don't want to make you pay for the damages on the school. Now, with that said, I think we should discuss the punishment Maximum should receive for her incident. Also, I believe she needs a solution to getting her mind off of the move, off of the new school, and off of all the new kids." He listened to my mom ramble about something; I could vaguely make out the word "therapist". "Alright, here she is," he handed me the phone.

"Hey Mom, what's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

My mom sounded stressed out and tired, "Don't start, Max, just don't. I'm setting an appointment up for Dr. Quinn on Wednesday. I didn't want it to come to this, but I have no choice," she sounded almost like she really did feel bad for me.

"I don't need a shrink!" I exclaimed.

"Maximum," Mom interrupted before I could go into a rant. "I don't want to hear you argue. Put Jonah back on the phone," she commanded.

I wrinkled up my nose: my mom was on first name basis with my principal. Well, it looks as if Principal Renegade is only calling my mother "Dr. Martinez" to keep this professional. "Mom wants to talk to you again, _Jonah_," I emphasize; he smiles sheepishly. He takes the phone and listens as Mom talks about something for a good five minutes while I just stared at the ceiling.

After a second, he says, "I think that would be best as well."

"What?" I ask incredulously; is everyone fighting to send me to another shrink?

He ignores me, "I believe she'll need more of a punishment to make the board happy."

"Visiting a shrink is enough! Those people are creepy son of a guns!"

Once again, he ignores my _oh-so-clever _comment, "Alright. Detention it is. I'll talk to Maximum about it," he agrees. He soon hangs up after saying something along the lines of, "Talk to you later, Val," before he turns to me.

"I can't believe you think I need a shrink," I glare at him.

He clears his throat, "You may not see why we're doing this, but-"

"You're just like my mom!" I exclaim, "You both think a shrink is going to help me. But, it isn't because I've had plenty of those in the past. Do you see how I turned out? Obviously, they aren't working, but my dear mother doesn't seem to get it!"

"Saturday detention, Max, three months," he deadpans. "Now, go sit in the detention room for the rest of the day," he gestures to his office door.

"You have got to be kidding me," I mutter.

"Nope."

"Have fun screwing my mom, but it isn't going to work out," I call.

Principal Renegade replies, but I slam the door shut before I could listen to it. Just as I was getting ready to leave, the door to the office swung open again. A guy with strawberry-blonde hair and mischievous icy blue eyes burst into the room with a wide smile on his face. "I did it! And it was epic!" he cheered.

Brigid looked up from her desk, "Uh oh. James, what did you do this time?"

"Spray-painted a dick on the back of the school with a friend," he grins brightly again.

I wince at his cheeriness and drop down on a seat in the office waiting room. The detention room could wait until Principal Renegade noticed me in here. In the detention room, they took all of your electronics and refused to let you sleep. The dude had mentioned spray-painting, and I wondered what kind of punishment he would get for that. What he spray-painted would probably make the punishment a lot worse than it would be if he spray-painted something innocent like a fish. Nick looked up, too, and smirked at this James kid, who innocently smiled back at him.

"Nicky, what you doing here boy?" he yelled.

Nick shrugged, "Trouble," he stated.

"Always the talker, Nicky boy!"

"Don't call me that."

"What you going to do about it?"

"You know," Nick deadpanned; James paused to think briefly.

Then, he flinched and sat down three seats away from Nick. Brigid sighed, "James, Principal Renegade will see you in a few minutes."

"Cool," there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Then, James noticed me sitting across the room with my music on the highest level it could get to in my ear-buds. "Oh em gee!" James yelled, "You guys are, like, matching!" he ran across the room as sat down next to me. "Ello, gorgeous," James droned in a much deeper, fake tone, "What's your name?" He threw his arm over the back of my chair; Nick was watching the scene with boredom in his eyes and on his face.

"Get your arm off of me before I snap it in half," I say seriously.

"Well, GYAOOMBISIIH," he smugly said, "I am the amazing James."

"Cool, now will you leave me alone?"

"Yeesh, Babe, I see how it is," he feigns hurt. Suddenly, the detention room didn't look too bad.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I really love getting up at like 8 for work because that's when I check my email. When I see that all these amazing people have commented such lovely things, the rest of my day is awesome-er. I was going to save my update for tonight, but I decided to be the nice person I am and update this morning. Have a lovely rest of the day!_

* * *

_Chapter Six_

This James character wouldn't leave me alone since that day in the office. He would follow me to my classes, to the lunch detention room, and he was always trying to get me to talk. I can't count how many times I've heard, "Hey. Hey, Max. Maxie. Maxie-pie. Max-a-million!" while he poked my back. He learned my name by getting the teacher to yell at me. I threatened him, I punched him on the arm, and I almost kicked him where a guy should never be kicked, but he never stops. He's more persistent than Ella when she's begging Mom for a new skirt; he's the most annoying person ever.

It's Wednesday, though, and I was being forced to go straight to my new shrink's office immediately after school. Mom had gotten the appointment, of course; she's just that freaking persistent into getting me a shrink. You're waiting for me to whine and complain, and I am, but in my mind so I don't annoy you. Since my mother clearly doesn't trust me, she walked me into the building and asked the secretary to keep an eye on me. I rolled my eyes at her, but sat down in the waiting room to please her anyway. Mom nodded to herself and then stalked out of the room to go back to work; she had taken her break to pick me up and drop me off.

"Miss Martinez?" a voice asked before I could pull my iPod out of my bag. I looked up to see quite a young man standing in the doorway in jeans and a red button-up shirt. He grinned as he saw me, "Hello, Miss Martinez!" he cheered and gestured for me to follow him, "Right this way."

Reluctantly, I stood up and followed him from the room. We went past a couple of shut doors before stopping in front of one that had Dr. Duncan Omega on the front. He opened the door, grinned at me again, and let me enter before he did. Inside, the walls were dark reddish-brown and the floors were dark wood with a black rug thrown into the middle. A single seat faced a three-seat black leather couch and bookshelves were in every corner of the room. Of course, there was also a desk and a stack of those paint-splatter pictures sitting with a notebook and pencil on the small table beside the single chair.

I glanced over at my new shrink wearily, "My mom said something about a Dr. Quinn."

"Yes! Dr. Quinn works in the office, too. However, his mother was taken to the hospital on short notice yesterday and he asked me to fill in for him." He explained and sat down on his single chair, not even reaching for his notepad and pencil.

Hesitantly, I sat down on the couch across from him with my bag at my side. "Can we get something straight before we go through this whole painful process?"

"Of course!"

"Great… just know that I've had many, _many _shrinks in the past and none of them have ever made a difference with me. So, I'd like to let you know that I don't think you'll be much better. So, good luck, but nothing ever works," I deadpan; I told the same thing to all my new shrinks. The first shrink I had was when I was around six when it happened to my dad. That one lasted three sessions listening to my problems before they quit, and my mom had to send me to a different shrink.

Dr. Duncan Omega shrugged, "That's too bad. Oh well. Your mom's already paid so we might as well go ahead and give it a try," that grin never left his face. "Now, most of my customers call me Dr. Duncan, but you can call me whatever you like, Max." Did anyone else notice that he said customers instead of patients? Yeah, he isn't as slick as he would like to think.

"Alright, Omega. Good to know."

"That's a new one," Omega coughed. "So, shall we get started?"

"I dunno. Are you ready to be mentally scarred?"

"Well, no-"

"Then we shouldn't get started yet."

"Now, Max, your mother has already paid for this appointment. I think you owe it in you to at least try and give me something," he looked a little too hopeful for my taste.

"Nope, I don't think I really owe anything. This was her idea. Not mine."

"Well…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. "How's school?"

"It's school, Omega. It's stupid, boring, and totally a waste of my time," I deadpan.

He swallows, "Right, of course," he coughs awkwardly. "Are you participating at all in school?"

"Nope."

"Are you planning on joining anything at school?"

"Nope."

"Do you have any friends at school?"

"Do a pair of perky people following me around count as friends?"

"I don't suppose so…"

"Then, no."

"Who do you sit with at lunch?" he persists.

"No one. I go to the lunch detention room every day."

"You get in that much trouble?"

"No, I just don't want to sit in the cafeteria. Why aren't you writing all of this down?" I glance at the notebook beside him that he hadn't even touched. He glanced at it, too, and then went back to studying me like I was an interesting new species no one had ever seen before.

"I don't need to," he shrugged. He asked me a series of more questions, digging more into my school life until I started answering with only one-worded answers. "Alright, Max," he finally sighed, "I think that's it for today; you may go." I'm up and out the door within a matter of seconds; now I have to walk all the way back to the house.

In the waiting room, I quite literally run into someone. This is where I should look up and see my prince in shining armor in front of me, and we instantly fall in love. I fall, but it wasn't in love; it was straight to the floor where I yelped when my ass collided with the hard floor. When I looked up to glare at whoever managed to get me to fall, I regretted it. A girl with unruly curly black hair was on her butt across from me, her big eyes pinched shut in pain. When her eyes opened, dark chocolate orbs that matched her mocha-colored skin stared back at me.

"Ohmygosh!" she exclaimed. "I am so, so, _so sorry_!" she scrambled onto her feet as fast as she could in a pencil skirt and stilettos. "I wasn't watching where I was going and I totally should have been. That was so my fault and I just have a whole lot on my mind. I just got out of a bad relationship, my new friend is going out with the guy I actually like, and I swear my period is going to kick in any day. Do you know what it's like to be in a love triangle while trying to control cramps?! It sucks! Not to mention-"

I quickly cut her off, "Alrighty then!" I exclaimed. "Look, it's fine. You don't have to tell me your full life story."

She breathed out, "Okay, sorry. Um," she looked around at the papers spread around her legs while I stumbled back onto my feet. "Gosh, my boss is so going to kill me," she murmured, looking down at her watch worriedly.

"You want some help?" a different voice butted into what I guess you could consider our conversation.

The girls gasped, "Nick Ride!" she stared in wonder at the guy before us. He looked the same as every time I saw him after that first day in the guidance office. Black clothes, ear-buds in his ears, and his black backpack slung over one shoulder with his hand grasping the strap. I snapped my fingers in front of the girls' face while Nick just stood there, looking like this was completely normal.

He nodded at her, "Sup?" he asked simply.

She giggled and blushed; I looked between the two of them. "Does this happen often?" I ask Nick quietly; he just shrugs. This guy was going to end up on the ground, clutching his head if he keeps answering me with shrugs and one-worded answers. "Hey, girl," I nudged her, "you okay?"

The girl swallowed, snapping out of her thoughts, "Y-yeah t-totally," she stuttered. "Um, and help would be great if you don't mind," she blushed.

Nick shrugged, set his backpack down, and started helping the girl gather her papers. I hesitated before eventually getting down on my knees and helping as well. You can tell that I'm obviously not used to helping people with messes that they created. The girl worked quickly, muttering to herself so quickly that I couldn't make out more than three words. Nick was just picking up papers, not bothering to say anything or look up from the ground. Once the papers were cleared from the floor, we all got back up and the girl tried to rearrange the large stack in her arms.

"Sup?" I repeated Nick to him and the girl.

The girl smiled hesitantly, "Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I'm Monique," she tried to stick her hand out to me and almost managed to drop all the papers again. She caught them just in time, "Whoops," she giggled girlishly. "H-How's James?" she shakily asked Nick, who now had this hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Good," he said with- you guessed it!- a shrug.

"You're annoying, you know that?" I asked.

A corner of Nick's mouth twitched upwards, "Cool."

"You're-," I started, but I was cut off. This seems to be happening a lot lately and it's getting seriously annoying. Is it possible for me to finish just one sentence without someone deciding to butt in because apparently it's oh-so-amusing?

"Nick!" a voice yelled; I glanced over to see Omega in the doorway of the waiting room.

He sighed silently and glanced at me for a quick second. "Seen you around, but don't know your name." He said quietly, swinging his bag up onto his shoulder smoothly.

"Max," I reply.

"Cool name," he nods, turns, and leaves me there with Monique while he goes with Omega.

Monique grins at me, "You making a move on the bad boy?" she asks with a wink.

"What?" I stare back at her.

She sighs, "Never mind. Are you going to Stoneville High this year? I don't think I've seen you around…" she trails off. "Well, I don't see a lot of people that I know around because I'm always doing stuff around the school. Like, I'm the leader of Drama Club, Book Club, Fashion Club, Hope 365, Tennis, and Softball. Do you know about Hope 365? It's this program that's really cool; we go to grocery stores and help with carrying groceries. We go around to gather cans and boxes of dry food for the homeless, and we even volunteer at the closest homes for the homeless. Oh, and we-"

"I get it," I give her my best smile, which turns into a grimace. I really just wanted to go home, fall face-first into my bed, and just dread my life. "Yeah, I'm obviously new in town and I started a couple weeks ago," I shrug.

"That's great! There's this other new girl, too, I think. She's in my math class, and her name is… Elle maybe?" she looked at a loss.

"Ella is my younger sister."

"That explains it!" she laughs happily. "Yeah, she's thinking of joining the cheerleading squad with me, I think," she shrugs. "Anyway, I have to go…" she looks down at the stack of papers in her hands, "but I'll totally look around for you at school. I know you're a senior and I'm a junior, but I can always get you interested in some of the programs we have at school. Getting involved is the best way to make some friends; I guarantee it. You should totally sign up for Hope 365! Or maybe you could sign up for the cheerleading squad with Ella and I…"

I tell her what I tell everyone else, "I'll think about it. But, right now, I really need to start my walk home if I want to make it for dinner," I insist.

She nods quickly, her hair bouncing around her face. "Yeah, I get it! Sorry, I just tend to ramble on and on about stuff without meaning to." She blushes slightly, "See you around?" I wonder why everyone keeps asking me that.

"Sure," I shrug.

"Great!" she cheers and practically skips away from me. I sling my messenger bag over my shoulder and finally leave the office, jogging down the building stairs. A bus stop was luckily right outside the building, but the next bus wasn't scheduled to come for another two hours. I groaned and dropped down on the bench beside the bus stop, running my fingers through my hair.

"Gee, Mom, you really planned this out," I muttered bitterly to myself. I pull my iPod out of my bag just like always, bunch my sweatshirt under my head so I can lie down, and I wait for my bus.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I got me a question, ma peeps! Okay, so their nicknames are in the making. Currently, chapters Eight and Nine are already written, but I like to update once a day usually so I'm like a step ahead in case I'm hit with Writer's Block. Anyway, their names are probably going to be coming in around chapter ten, eleven, or twelve. The reason is that I'm obviously trying not to rush into things. I'm sorry, but I hate those stories that go so fast that it's annoying. I like my stories to slowly progress to that point. So, yup. There's your answer, **maximumride062000**._

* * *

_Chapter Seven_

Why is it that life likes to take advantage of me?

Seriously, I lie down for a while to wait for my bus and I fall asleep. Then, the person driving the bus doesn't have the decency to honk or do anything to try and wake me up so I can get on the bus. Instead, they just drive past me; I suppose they thought I was a hobo. Anyway, that's how I ended up walking home around ten at night when the road is empty. I made it home without any problems- were you expecting me to get attacked?- but it was midnight by the time I was walking up the stairs. The kitchen light was on, unfortunately, and my mother was sitting at the kitchen table with a folder open in front of her.

She glanced up at me as I shut the front door behind me. "Do you want to explain or do you want to let my imagination roam to figure out where you were?" she asked. I threw my bag onto the kitchen counter and went to the refrigerator to grab something to drink.

"I love how you're always so concerned about me," I rolled my eyes.

"Max, where were you?" she asked seriously.

I pulled a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator and hopped up to sit on the counter. "When you dropped me off at the shrink, did you think about how I was supposed to get home afterwards? Did you think about how long it would take for me to get home on my own? This is just another sign to show you that I shouldn't be going to a shrink."

"Would you stop calling it that?" she set down her mug of hot tea. "Max, I thought you'd be smart enough to catch a bus."

"I tried," I shrugged. "But then I fell asleep waiting for _two hours_, and I thought that you'd at least come looking for me. Obviously not," I snorted in the most ladylike manner I could manage.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to sort everything out around the house. I forgot about coming to pick you up after your appointment, and I really am sorry. But it's midnight, we're both exhausted, and I think it would be best for both of us to go to bed." She stood up from the table, gathering the papers from her folder together and sticking them into the folder.

"I haven't eaten anything in eight hours," I point out, "I'm not going to sleep like this."

Mom nodded, "Alright, just try not to stay up too late. Remember that it's a school night."

"If you would've remembered, I could've been home six hours ago. However, since you're so busy to remember your eldest daughter, it's midnight and I'm starving. I swear that this is a sign that clearly states I shouldn't be going to these stupid appointments with the shrink after all. Goodnight," I glared at her and started rifling around for something to eat. Making something was out of the question, of course, since I can't cook to save my life.

"There's some leftover lasagna in the refrigerator," Mom said quietly. "Goodnight, Max, I love you," she says hesitantly.

I huff in response, not turning around to look at her. Don't tell me that you wouldn't react like this, too if you woke up on a bus stop bench just to find out your mother wasn't even worried about you not making it home. With a quiet, sad sigh, she left the kitchen and walked down the hallway to her bedroom. In the end, I collapsed on the couch with a bowl of slightly heated lasagna in my lap. It was either have some slightly cold lasagna or burnt lasagna; I can barely use a microwave correctly. With SpongeBob playing in the background, I fell asleep on the couch around three in the morning.

* * *

The next day, I fell asleep during my Spanish 3 class. That was inevitable, of course, considering how late it was when I finally managed to make it home. My too-big Superman sweatshirt, black skinny jeans, and red converse were proof of how lazy and tired I was. I was dozing off into a land of video games come to life and endless tacos when _it _happened. That idiot that had been pestering me for the past four days or so because of the office scene had finally gotten on my last nerve. Basically what happened is I fell asleep and then he decided it would be a lot of fun to wake up Max just because he wanted to.

"Pst, hey," James murmured, poking my bicep annoyingly. "Maaaax," he sang quietly while our idiot teacher went without noticing. Behind him, Monique was snickering; my Spanish class is a combined senior and junior class. "Hey Maxxxie-paaaaad," he hummed, poking my bicep harder; he obviously didn't get that this just wasn't the day to mess with me.

"Shut the hell up, James!" I exclaimed, picking my head up from my desk.

Monique put her hand over her mouth to try and keep her laughing to a minimum. James shot a smile at her and then turned back to me as our teacher started walking towards my desk. "Girl, look what you did now," he snapped his fingers in a Z-formation.

"You did it, you ass!" I hissed angrily.

He shrugged, "Details, details, girl. Good luck," he winked and bent over his paper like he was now taking notes to look like a good student.

The teacher stopped in front of my desk, "Miss Martinez, is something wrong?" she ground out.

"No," I said sarcastically, "I just like to yell randomly in the middle of class because absolutely nothing is wrong."

She glared back at me, "Don't take that tone with me, Miss Martinez. I don't appreciate your language, your attitude, and how you fell asleep in my class. Pack your things and go to the office straight away," she went back to her desk before I could protest. I literally growled as I shoved my stuff in my messenger bag and got to my feet. James was snickering under his breath; I slapped the back of his head as I passed his seat to go to the front of the classroom.

I snatched the office sheet from Mrs. Santiago and left the classroom. You will not believe the field day Omega will have when my mother tells him about this. My next appointment is next Wednesday unless something big happens, then it'll be Monday as my mother told me. Apparently, Omega insisted that I'm not at the point where I need to speak with him every day since Dr. Quinn decided to just let me speak with Omega from now on. Not to mention that we don't have the money to send me to his office every day. The company belonged to my mom's friend, but that doesn't mean we get a huge discount- only a small one.

"Look, man, it was nothing personal," a shaky voice exclaimed from down the hallway. "I just needed some lunch money," he insisted after a loud banging sound reverberated down the hallway.

A different voice replied harshly, "So you beat the kid up?"

"It was the only way to get him to give it to me!" the first voice insisted.

I furrowed my eyebrows, hiked my bag farther up on my shoulder, and went towards the voices. "Maybe you're the one that needs the beating," the deeper, harsher voice growled. _That's a sexy voice_; I can't help but think to myself with a small smirk. No matter how harsh I may be, I can't help but appreciate voices like the one this guy had.

"N-no ma-man," the first guy stuttered, frightened. "It's was just a misunderstanding, I won't do it again! I swear!" a loud bang echoed through the hall; the guy exclaimed in pain, and I even winced at the sound of something cracking. "M-my arm!" he exclaimed brokenly.

Finally, I reached the hallway that they were in and stopped at the corner. Slowly, I peeked around the corner to see some chestnut-haired guy shoved against the lockers, his tortoiseshell eyes watering. Nick was holding him against the locker by the front of his polo-shirt with this deadly look in his eyes. The brunet was clutching his right arm, which had violently connected with the lockers Nick shoved him into. Even I would be afraid of Nick with how he looked right now; his eyes were freaking _blazing _hatred. It was so different from the cool, calm, and bored nature I had previously seen him in.

"You've been warned, Sam," Nick growled, pulling him forward and slamming him back again.

Sam yelped in pain, "A-alright!" he cried out. "I'll stay away from Holden," he choked out.

Nick's dark, dark eyes that seemed black narrowed dangerously. He slammed him into the lockers once again, and I winced at the inhuman, strangled sound that came from Sam. "Not just Holden you tool," Nick raised his fist and slammed it into Sam's jaw. His head whipped to the side, blood flooding Sam's mouth from a cut and dripping down his chin. "Every kid in this school, got it?" Nick warned; I swear I saw red in his eyes for those couple of seconds.

The brunet nods quickly, "I-I got it m-man! Just let me go!" he pleaded.

"Get out of here," Nick dropped Sam, who fell to the ground.

Struggling to his feet because of his bruised back, Sam limped away. He was holding onto his injured arm with blood still dripping from his mouth. Nick glanced around, almost catching me watching them until I ducked back behind the wall. He picked up his leather jacket from the hallway floor and pulled it on before striding away like nothing happened. For a second, I stayed leaning against the hallway wall when the bell rang, signaling that my next class was starting. With an irritated sigh, I started towards the office to turn in my trouble slip; my teacher probably already called the office to make sure I was there, anyway.

Since I already had three months of Saturday detention, there wasn't much Renegade could do. He just told me not to outburst in the middle of class again, signed my late pass, and waved me off.

* * *

Now, it's my first Saturday detention and I was being forced to wake up at eight in the freaking morning. I moaned into my pillow, got up, and didn't even bother with a shower. All I did was scrape my oily hair into a ponytail, threw some sweatpants on under my tank-top, and left the house. On the local bus ride to the stop sign a couple blocks away from school, I ate the burnt toast I managed to make by myself.

Mom had work today, and she was gone before I woke up for stupid detention. Ella was in charge of Gazzy and Angel for the day since I wouldn't be getting home until two. That's six hours sitting in a room and just staring at a wall; we aren't allowed any electronics or anything else to occupy us. The local bus stopped a few blocks away from the high-school, and I trudged off with the other people. I walked the rest of the way, and shoved the door to the high-school open angrily. The only people here were the others that had Saturday detention, Principal Renegade, the teacher watching detention, and teachers that have nothing better to do.

"Miss Martinez, I presume?" my geography teacher droned when I pushed into the detention room.

I rolled my eyes, "You should know. I'm in your eighth period geography class," I drop down into a seat at the very back of the classroom.

Mr. Gregory huffs, but doesn't say anything else as he checks me off the list. I looked around at the few other people that managed to get into Saturday detention. There was a guy with chocolate brown curly hair, a girl with a blonde slightly-past-shoulder length haircut, Ratchet, and Nick. I looked at Nick for maybe a little longer than necessary, taking in his neutral expression. He looked completely normal at the moment; it was like the monster that was there on Thursday had completely disappeared. After a while of just watching him stare at nothing, he glanced back at me like he felt my gaze; I immediately looked away.

"Max!" Ratchet waved his arm in the air like the classroom was filled with hundreds of people.

I glare at him, "What?" I mouth, but it doesn't seem like he noticed.

"Max! Hey, Max! Over here!" he kept waving.

"What?!" I snapped out loud; the blonde girl bit her lip so she wouldn't burst out laughing.

Ratchet grinned, "Hi!" he hissed.

"Shut up," I deadpan in reply.

"How _rude_," he says and turns back around to look at the board.

"Well, now that almost all of you delinquents are here," Mr. Gregory said. "I suppose you may sit in your seats and stare straight ahead at the chalkboard. By the end of your punishment, you should be able to read this sentence forward, backwards, upside down, and mixed." He pointed to the one sentence on the board: **I will not get in trouble, and I will improve my life choices. **I laughed and his beady brown eyes turned to me, "Miss Martinez, do you have something to share with the rest of us?"

I lean back and cross my arms, "Nope."

"Very well then," he nods and picks up his ancient flip phone as it buzzes on the desk. "I'm leaving now," he announces after reading the message he had gotten. "No talking, no sleeping, no eating, and no drinking; I'll be back to check on you later."

He leaves the room, and shuts the door behind him with a slam. "What the hell?" I murmur.

The guy with curly hair shrugs; I now noticed that he was that Holden guy Ratchet was talking to. "He always leaves the room after attendance."

"Yeah," Ratchet nods, "he meets up with Miss Zelia in the teacher's lounge for a little alone time. If you know what I mean," he tries to slyly wink at me. However, it looked more like he was blinking because he couldn't wink one eye at a time; I snicker. I'm enrolled in a school that's filled with idiotic people; I wonder how long it would take for me to go completely insane.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I like answering questions! Haha. I also like getting reviews like "so and so sounds like so and so!" because those entertain me. It's funny, **The Angel From Above**, Mr. Hardy is actually based off of my Math teacher. I needed someone to be him, and my math teacher is, like, insanely hot. Don't tell my boyfriend/fiancee I said that... Anyway, I've been waiting to post this because it was done, like, three days ago. So, I hope this is good enough. :)_

_Hey, everyone keeps saying Sam is blonde! I mean, I made that mistake, too, but still! He's actually a brunet. You can look up "Maximum Ride Characters" on Wikepedia and it has a description of Sam that's this exactly:_**_She finds him attractive, describing his tortoiseshell eyes and his chestnut hair that "kind of fell across his forehead" as pleasant. _**_So, if you're going to write a story of your own that includes him, please get him back to how he actually is!_

_****__P.S.- For future reference, I post all the outfits for Max and sometimes the others on my profile._

* * *

_Chapter Eight_

"We're going to get in so much trouble!"

"This is genius! Keep going!"

"Guys, sit down before he comes back!"

"No, keep going! We're almost done!"

"Stop before he walks in on you going this!"

"Be quiet, Star, this is awesome!"

I rolled my eyes, "Would all of you shut up? I'm going to finish," I insist; my pocket knife had "accidentally" fallen into my bag that I managed to grab this morning. Now, I was using it to slowly twist the screws in Mr. Gregory's chair. When he sat down on this, it would collapse under him and send him to the ground; it would take forever for him to figure out how to put it back together. We're lucky that the cameras were only in the hallway instead of in each individual classroom.

Nick was helping with his own pocket knife. A small smirk was curving up the side of his mouth, "Nice," he murmured to me as we worked on getting out all the screws. Mr. Gregory had one of those really big, complicated rolling chairs that took forever to put together whether you knew how to do it or not.

"Why thank you," I laughed a little under my breath.

Star, the only other person in detention with us, sighed nervously. "Guys, he could come back any second," she taps her foot nervously. I'm not sure how she managed to get put into Saturday detention, but she was really nervous to be playing a prank. I bet she just has one of those really annoying teachers that gave you detention for getting up to sharpen your pencil while they're lecturing.

"Oh, my God," I groaned to Nick, "They're acting like they've never played a prank on anyone before in their life!"

He glanced at them briefly then shrugged, "They might not have."

"No way," I shake my head, "I wouldn't have had a childhood if I didn't have my pranks."

"Look at them," he jerks his head to where Star and Holden were nervously watching the door. "I can't see it," he says shortly, his eyes still focused on the chair.

"I see what you mean."

"Exactly."

"Come on Star," Ratchet groaned, "Live a little!"

"I do live," Star snapped, "I just don't want to get another Saturday detention for something you did!"

"What have you ever done that was in the least bit rule-breaking material?"

"I- I took my mom's car without permission."

"When?"

"A couple of months ago," Star murmurs.

"Why did you take the car?"

She sighs, "A dog got hit by a car, and I needed to get it to the vet before it died. But, I still took the car without permission! I'm not allowed to do that," she insisted while Ratchet was doing his very best not to burst out laughing at her failed attempt to "break the rules".

"You daredevil!" Ratchet exclaims sarcastically, getting a nasty glare from Star in return. "Did you do anything else that badass?!"

"Shut up," Star snapped at him.

"I agree with Star," Holden bites his lip nervously. They looked like they were about to kill each other and then have sex on the floor afterwards. "My parents are already pissed enough that I got this detention; I'll be grounded for life if I get another one."

"Look, I'll take the blame," I snap, "Just let me have some damn fun!"

Nick nods, "I'll take the blame, too," he says shortly.

"Thanks, man," I do that head-jerking thing that guys tend to do. Nick rolls his eyes at my failed attempt to be like all of those guys and he goes back to focusing on the chair. Star gives up and goes back to her seat, dropping into it with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I got this," Ratchet mutters to me, popping up his collar to try and look cool. He gets up and strides over to Star's desk, trying to sit on it by jumping.

Of course, since this is probably the biggest idiot other than James, he managed to fail. He fell off the edge and cried out as his arm collided with the hard tile floor. I couldn't help but burst into laughter, tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes. Nick was only half-smiling, but I could tell he was trying to keep up his calm, cool, and bored façade up. Star, looking totally worried, got on her knees beside a crumpled Ratchet and tried to help him with his hurt arm. Holden was even laughing, covering his mouth with his hand; I get myself under control as much as possible and loosen the final screw that was keeping the chair in one piece.

"We're done," I told Nick, wiping the backs of my hands across my watering eyes.

Nick nods, flipping his knife shut and shoving it into his pocket. "Good job," he says to me before we walk over to help Star haul Ratchet back onto his feet. He stumbles slightly, holding his arm to his body; my mind flashed to the scene from the hallway on Thursday. I glance at Nick, and he looks back at me without hesitation; I look away quickly.

"Ugh, I've been hit," Ratchet moans.

Star giggles, "You're so weird, Ratchet."

"I know, and that's something I pride myself in," Ratchet grins brightly. Nick rolls his eyes, making Ratchet sit back in his seat before he goes back to his desk.

"Crap!" Holden exclaims, "Here comes Mr. Gregory!" he hisses. He was frozen by the door while I was already in my seat, ready to act completely natural. When I saw that he hadn't moved, I jumped up and forced him into a random desk.

I barely managed to make it back to my own desk before the door swung open. Mr. Gregory stormed in his face red, and his lips swollen to the size of full pickles. His hair was in disarray and I winced at his appearance; people their age should not still be making out. Just the thought of Mr. Gregory getting some made me want to puke up my tiny breakfast. He was huffing and puffing while muttering to himself; he reminded me of Ella when I dye one of her pink blouses black. I'm such a great big sister, don't you think? I mean, I _did _get rid of some of the deathly color people call pink.

He was fuming, "I heard talking! Who was talking?!" he slammed his hands down on his desktop.

"Did you have to disconnect tongues with Miss Zelia just to come yell at us?" I ask. His face gets even redder, but I continue, "Man, I'm glad she had an excuse to get away. I'm pretty sure that woman is, like, ten years younger than you. That's basically pedophilia," I point out because that's what I am; I'm a freaking smart cookie with mostly smart thoughts. I glance at Nick, "That's what it's called, right? Pedophilia?"

Smirking, he nods, and I go back to looking at Mr. Gregory, my mouth curved into a smirk that matched Nick's. Mr. Gregory basically growled at me, "That's another Saturday detention for you!"

"Dude, I hate to break it to you, but you have me for the next three months. Do you seriously want to make both of our lives miserable for a longer time period?" I raise an eyebrow. He huffs, and mutters some more to himself as he ruffles the papers on his desk.

He points at us, "I'll find out who was talking! There are cameras in the hallway with one that looks into this classroom through that door window!" he exclaims.

"Don't you need someone to get you to show you those?" Star asks.

"Yes, why?"

"Because then they'll also see that you left us in here alone while you went off and swapped spit with another teacher."

Ratchet nods, "Yeah, and isn't it against the law for a pair of teachers in a relationship to be working at the same school?" he feigns shock. I laugh, coughing awkwardly when Mr. Gregory turns his glare on me. I held my breath when Mr. Gregory started to sit down in his chair.

"Listen, you brats-," he was cut off by his own girlish scream.

Just like Nick and I had planned, the chair completely fell apart. Metal bars clanged against the ground as they fell, and Mr. Gregory fell, screeching to the floor. His comb-over fell apart and his limbs flailed until he hit the floor and started to freak out. He cursed over and over again in a language that I could swear is either Pig Latin or Klingon. Nick managed to hide his smirk behind his hand, but Ratchet fell out of his chair in his complete fit of laughter. Holden was recording the whole thing on his cell phone while I managed to stifle my loud laughing into a few giggles beneath my hand.

"Who did this?!" Mr. Gregory exclaimed, struggling to get to his feet. "Who is the culprit?!"

"You can't possibly think it was us!" Star exclaimed, surprising all of us. "How could we possibly loosen all of those screws?" she sounded so freaking innocent that I almost believed her. Nick now his arms crossed, glancing over at me; I grinned back at him slightly.

Mr. Gregory went to yell at us again until the bell rang, ending Saturday detention. "Well, would you look at that?!" Ratchet exclaimed as we all got up and gathered our stuff.

"I guess we'll never know," I added oh-so-helpfully. "See you next Saturday!"

"See you Saturday," I repeat to Nick, nudging him as we walked together to the parking lot.

"See you," he nods at me.

Before he could walk over to the only motorcycle in the parking lot, I grabbed his arm. He paused, pulling out one of the ear-buds he had put in as soon as we left the detention room. "We should do something else next Saturday; you know, to keep it interesting."

He smirks, "Sure," he says simply and leaves me standing there.

I watch him swing onto his motorcycle, slip on his black leather jacket, and screech out of there. When he had disappeared, I sighed and started my walk to the bus stop. My dearest mother had decided to work the late shift and there was no way she could pick me up. Of course, my bus wouldn't be at that stop for the next hour, and I had to wait for it. When I managed to finally get home two hours later, Angel and Gazzy were the ones that answered the locked door. You would not believe how much multicolored paint was in the blonde locks on their heads and it was smeared across their pale skin.

"What happened?!" I exclaimed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. "Where's Ella?!"

Gazzy shrugged, "She made us breakfast, went upstairs, and hasn't come down since. Hey, can you order us a pizza?"

"I think you've already had dinner," I pointed out and wiped my thumb along Angel's chin. The white smeared there wasn't paint; it was vanilla ice cream. "Busted," I told them and crossed my arms while they giggled at being caught in stealing the ice cream.

"We were hungry!" Angel protested, "And Ella wouldn't come out of her room to cook for us. Please don't be angry, Maxie," she widened her already big crystal blue eyes as far as they would go. The blue orbs were swarming with so much innocence that she was probably the most adorable girl ever.

"Wow, you know that only works on Mom and yet you still try," I pat the top of her head.

She pouts, "It was worth a try," she says, defeated.

"Both of you go out back and run through the sprinkler a few times. I'll order a pizza," I instruct and go to the kitchen to find the list of takeout places.

Gazzy and Angel high-five then race out to play in the sprinkler and get that paint off. I dial the closest pizza place and order three larges and a small; larges for me, for Mom, and for the twins. Ella eats so little sometimes that I wonder how she could possibly be related to me. After finishing the order, I hang up the house phone and go to the kitchen table to actually do my homework. It's only English homework, which is basically just reading a chapter of the book we're currently studying. I ignored the other three classes that I had homework in, just like always.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I love you guys. I do. Seriously... Anyway, I won't be posting 10 until I'm finished editing 11, but that shouldn't take too long. Here's the next chappie and keep up those reviews because I absolutely love them!_

* * *

_Chapter Nine_

Ella was a really big pain in my ass, but you already knew that. I _have _unfortunately had the torture to spend my seventeen and a half years of life with her. Well, everything was fine and dandy until I turned one and my mother announced that she was three months pregnant. That's when the little devil child would start ruining my life; the twins are like my little minions, so they're cool, bro. Let me explain what happened and why I was suddenly giving my younger sister the longest silent treatment ever. It was on the next Tuesday after detention, making it the third week in our move to Arizona.

_***FLASHBACK***_

_ I'm actually starting to think that Tuesday's are worse than Monday's. On Monday's, I have gym, but on Tuesday's I have my stupid Spanish class. James was already in his seat when I walked into the classroom and grudgingly took my seat beside him. This is one of my only three classes that gave us assigned seats that would last for the rest of the year. Ratchet was sitting behind me, but he was too busy texting someone under his desk to notice the look James was giving me. Monique was practically bouncing in her seat behind him; James had this smug look on his face._

_ "Well, hiya Maxie!" he cheered._

_ My eyes narrowed, "You're far too chipper for this early. What the hell is wrong with you?" I cut right to the chase because I just don't have time to dawdle._

_ "Max!" Monique exploded, "Okay, so I was talking to this really cute guy on the football team this morning, right? Right! Well, he was saying something about his parents going out of town for the ENTIRE weekend, so he's going to throw a party at his parent's skating and bowling place. I'm sure you see where this is going, but I'm going to keep talking anyway. James and I are going, and I invited Ella along, too. Wait; maybe it was Elle that I invited… oh, yeah! I totally forgot to tell Ella!" her eyes widened, "No worries, I'll text her right now because that's what best friends do, and –"_

_ James poked her, "Hey, Monique! Shhhhh!" he pressed his finger against his lips._

_ "Sorry," she mumbled and blushed before ducking her head down to text Ella under her desk._

_ It took me a second to figure everything out. "NO!" I yelled, snatching Monique's phone away from her fingers before she could even start the text. If she texted Ella about the party then Ella would tell Mom that I was invited, too, and Mom would force me to go with Ella._

_ "Something wrong, Max?" Monique raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow._

_ "W-we can't go to the party!" I exclaimed quickly._

_ "And why is that, Maxie-Taxi?" James butted in._

_ "Because… be-because Ella… El-Ella is allergic to parties!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. Monique and James stare at me in complete disbelief. So, it turns out that I'm not exactly the best liar in this whole universe. Not to mention I can't act to save my life; I'm not talented in any department except sarcasm, really. Such a shame, isn't it? That was sarcasm, by the way; see, sarcasm is, like, the best talent anyone could possibly have._

_ Ratchet chimed in slowly, "Ella is _allergic _to parties?"_

_ "Yes…" I trailed off awkwardly._

_ Monique coughed through the tension, "Fine, I won't text her. But, can I have my cell phone back because I honestly can't live without it. Like, all my friends have a contact in it. Hey, Max, you should totally give me your number so we can text and gossip and stuff like that! Not to mention we could make some plans to get our hair done, and maybe our nails… Oh, you would look so good in purple nail-polish! Hey, how come I have never seen you with painted nails?! Like, you don't even paint them halfway or anything! Do you, like, not like the smell of nail-polish or anything?! Because-"_

_ All throughout her little rant, James was nudging Monique. "Yo, Monique!" he exclaimed._

_ She snaps her mouth shut, "What?"_

_ "I've been nudging you for the past two minutes! Stop it!"_

_ Once again, a blush coats her cheeks, "Whoops. Sorry, you guys," she giggled._

_ "I got over it in third grade," James chuckles, poking the small dimple in her left cheek. "Is little Miss Nudged blushing?!" he exclaimed._

_ Monique blushed harder, swatting away his hand, "Cut it out."_

_ "Little Miss Nudged? Really?" I stare at James._

_ He shrugs, "Last minute name. Get over it."_

_ "OMG!" Monique suddenly exclaimed, "What if my name was Nudge? Then you could, like, yell "NUDGE" at me when I'm ranting instead of actually nudging me! That'd be so cool, and it sounds awesome unlike Monique, which sounds really weird in my mouth. James, don't make dirty jokes about that because it was in no way supposed to be dirty." Her gaze hardens on James, and Ratchet does the same while James feigns complete shock._

_ "I would never make a dirty joke!" he yelled indignantly._

_ "Yeah, right," Ratchet snorts._

_ Anyway, Monique had somehow managed to text Ella while I was busy dealing with James. When I got home that day, Ella went straight to the kitchen and started whispering harshly to Mom. Because I'm me, I ignored their strange behavior and went up to my bedroom. My iPod had been dead for the past couple days because Ella stole my charger to make sure I couldn't drown myself in my music. Now that I found the charger again, all I'm doing is drowning myself in my music. So, basically, her little plan completely backfired; I'm pretty sure my mom and Omega were in on the plan, too._

_ The next day after school, I went back to Omega's office. He was already there and waiting for me; I dropped down on the seat across from him with a heavy, drawn-out sigh. His eyes flitted upwards, "Good afternoon, Max, how are you doing this week?" he asked._

_ "The same," I shrugged uselessly._

_ "I should've known," he put aside the notebook he was previously writing in. "So, your mother called me last night to talk to me about something."_

_ I cut him off, unable to resist, "No really? She wanted to talk to you about something? Because that totally isn't why people call you or anything!" I exclaimed sarcastically. He rubbed at his temples although the tiniest of smirks was curving up his mouth._

_ "Max, I'm trying to be serious here. Your mother said something about a friend's party-"_

_ "Wait a second! The party isn't a friend's because I don't have any friends, genius."_

_ "If you would stop interrupting me, this could be over within an hour or maybe less if you're lucky."_

"_You mean if _we're _lucky?" I butt in again._

"_Just sit back and listen for a minute." I sat back and crossed my arms and my legs with my feet on the glass coffee table between our seats. "I think it would be best for you and your high school experience for you to go to this party-"_

_ "You have got to be kidding me," I muttered quietly._

_ He continued like I hadn't said a word, "and to try and make some friends. Let's be honest here, Max, you're high-school experience has been pathetic for the first three years."_

_ "Excuse you?"_

_ "So, it's important that you make your last year the best yet! So, your mother has told me to make sure you get to that party. Monique will be making sure you go, and she'll be telling me if you don't go. Your mother will also hear if you went or not from me; not to mention your little sister, Ella, will be there and she can make sure you stay. If you refuse to go, your mother will be choosing a consequence for you," he settled a pair of glasses on his nose. "So, let's get started with the actual appointment for today because I'm really hoping you'll tell me something that I can help you with."_

_ "Wait a second!" I hold up my hands, "Don't I get a say in this?! I mean, I'm obviously not the partying type and I absolutely _hate _interacting with people, so why the hell would I want to go to some party?"_

_ He shrugs, "That's for your mother to decide, not me. So, how are you grades so far?"_

_ "Stupid," I replied smartly. He wasn't going to get shit from me after dropping that bomb on me._

_***END OF FLASHBACK***_

That's basically how my pathetic Tuesday went, but that was three days ago. It is now Friday, and I'm waiting for Ella to finish getting ready so we can leave and get this over with. Turns out, Omega wasn't bluffing when he said I would get a punishment if I didn't go. Mom thought up the worst punishment and threatened me with it; she would take away my iPod for a month. I can barely go a week without my music before going on a rampage! How was she expecting me to go through a month just because I didn't want to go to some stupid high-school party?

"Ella, let's go!" I screamed upstairs.

"I don't know which dress to wear!" Ella whined back.

"We'll be bowling and skating, Ella! If you fall in the skating rink, your entire ass will be displayed to the horny boys of Stoneville High! Throw on some damn skinny jeans and get down here!" I yelled back.

"No way!" she sounded absolutely horrified, "It's, like, against the partying rules to wear jeans!"

"I'm wearing skinny jeans!"

"That's because you're Max!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means you're the biggest tomboy to walk this planet!"

"Why, thank you, sister dearest! I love you, too," I exclaimed sarcastically.

I could practically see her rolling her eyes at me, "I really wish you would've let me pick your outfit!"

"Too bad, so freaking sad! Now, get down here so we can leave and get this stupid thing over and done with!" I yelled while glancing down at my chosen clothes for the night. I wore some plain black skinny jeans, a red Jacky tank-top, a grey True Religion hoodie, and red Supra Skytop shoes. My only jewelry was a tiny DC Comics Pop Batman necklace. My blonde hair was down and cascading over my shoulders, but I had a grey cashmere slouch beanie because I don't just like leaving my hair down.

Ella huffed loudly, "Ten more minutes! Go bother the twins for a while!" she ordered.

I rolled my eyes, pushed off the staircase that I was leaning against, and went into the living room. The twins were on the floor; Angel had a Barbie doll in her hand. You're probably thinking: So, what? Little girls like Angel play with Barbie dolls all the time. However, her once too-pretty Barbie doll was now headless on the floor; while another Barbie had a blonde-hair-scarf wrapped around her neck. Angel was making choking sounds while holding the Barbie in the air by her "scarf", which I now realized was a noose. Violent could not even describe how bad the scene would look to any passing bystander.

"Wow, Angel," I pat the top of her head, "That sure is something. Where'd you see that?"

Angel grinned, "From all of those horror movies we watched together. Don't you remember that one where the really pretty girl got hung by her own hair?!" she giggled.

"Remind me not to let you watch scary movie marathons with me again, okay?"

She pouts, "But those movies are the best!"

"Stick to the Barbie movies, kid." I looked over at Gazzy, who was innocently playing with his Power Rangers and a small box thing. I was about to say something to him when I noticed him slowly taping the box to his blue Power Ranger.

He set it on the ground, picked up a toy car remote, and pressed the star button. In seconds, the Power Ranger was smoking in a hundred pieces on the carpet. Gazzy cheered, "Yes! That was awesome!" while starting to make another one of his small bombs. I looked towards the ceiling and thought: _Why, oh why did I have to rub my awesomeness off on these children?_

"That was great, Gaz!" Angel chirped innocently.

Gazzy high-fived his younger twin, "Thanks, Ange! I like your dead Barbies!"

This is why my mother refuses to have any other children that could be effected by me, everyone.

Ella finally came tromping downstairs in a mid-thigh jean skirt, "I'm ready!"

"It's a miracle!" I exclaim sarcastically, patting the twins on their heads before I reluctantly leave.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Everyone ready for a plot twist?! Lol, it's not huge. It really just gives you kind of a look of Nick/Fang's life. Don't worry, he's not going to turn out to be in a gang or anything. I'm starting to hate the whole "gang" thing, so yup..._

_P.S.- I believe James/Iggy will get his nickname in the nest chapter. :D_

**_P.P.S.- I can assure you that Nick/Fang won't be doing any drugs. Neither will any of the other characters except Lissa and Tess; don't worry everything will come into the light really soon._**

_Chapter Ten_

Let's all take a moment here to reminisce on all my life failures. I have a pretty good balance, but not when I'm wearing wheels on my shoes on a very slippery floor. Come on, wearing wheels is not how people were born therefore they shouldn't be trying it. When it came to wheels, I couldn't even drive without crashing into the nearest tree there was. Skateboards slip right out from under me, motorcycles ended with me in the hospital with a broken collarbone, and skates leave me with a bruised ass. Ella, however, liked to show off that she could glide in her skates like the freaking Queen Skater.

"Max!" Ella skated over to the wall where I was watching her. "Aren't you coming?" she sounded genuinely curious.

"You know I have the worst balance in the world," I pointed out with a sigh.

She giggles, "Hey, can you let me know if you see James around? He's really cute, and I'm thinking about making him my first boy toy," she winked. I don't know why Ella hooks guys line and sinker just to end up dumping them after a month or less. She claims that she tires of them quickly because he was never "Mr. Right", but I just think she likes to play guys after she was played in Maine.

"Ella," I deadpan, "No, don't start. Look, an… acquaintance of mine really, _really_ likes James-"

"Just another reason to get him first," Ella says.

"You aren't listening to me," I lower my voice, "I think Monique really _loves _him. If you take him from her, she'll hate your guts especially if you break his heart. Don't do that to him or her." Since when do I care about who Ella messes with? Besides, it's not like any of us are friends or anything; I mean, come on, I'm Maximum Martinez- I don't make friends.

She sighs, looking like she was suddenly high or drunk. "It doesn't matter if Monique likes James because James likes me," she smiles innocently. "Besides, Monique and I are hardly friends; she's too… weird and different for me."

"Don't hurt someone just because someone hurt you," I insist.

"Instead of standing here, lecturing me, why don't you go take your own advice?" she pushes away from the wall and disappears into the crowd of skating people.

I stayed at the bar that was only giving out Coke and other nonalcoholic drinks. The "party" really looked like a birthday party for some guy turning fifteen. People were bowling, dancing to music that wasn't even close to this century, and the ring was filled with skaters. Monique, James, Ratchet, and everyone else I sort of know hadn't been seen anywhere yet. I was starting to get up the nerve to sneak out when the door to the building opened and Nick walked in, looking like he wanted to kill. He got a few looks, but no one said anything as he walked through the crowd, a goal in his head.

Quickly, I slid off the barstool and started following Nick silently. He didn't even have to shove people away, they just moved for him like he was their leader. "Dammit," I heard him murmur, "where the hell is he?" he walked straight through a group of giggling girls.

"Move it," I hissed at them as they tried to crowd back together after Nick got through.

The girls ignored me, giggling and laughing and talking about Nick's ass. In the end, I just elbowed them until I made it through and continued to follow Nick quickly. He finally stopped outside of a door, glanced around, and then he pushed inside quickly. I went to follow him, to peek... when someone suddenly grabbed my arm and made me spin around to face them. It was Monique, her usually unruly hair straightened and falling in waves slightly past her shoulders. She had dressed in some regular short-shorts, a Flash t-shirt with sleeves that reached her elbows, and some red high-tops.

"Hi, Max!" she chirped happily, "How's the party so far? I'm totes glad that you could make it! I know that you kind of had to because of your mom and everything, but you would've backed out even then unless you kind of did want to come. Besides, I like to think you came to hang out with me some more," she giggles sweetly. "Have you seen James around? I kind of wanted to ask him to dance, but I'm extremely nervous because he's so cute and older than me. Ugh, what should I do?!"

"Nudge!" I yelled instead of actually physically reaching out to nudge her. I'm just way too lazy to actually do that; she was in mid-sentence until she heard me yell at her. "Well, first you should stop talking," I pointed out. She shut her mouth, "And second, you should come find me later because I was just looking for-… Never mind," I quickly stopped talking.

Monique raised an eyebrow, "Nick?" she finished for me. "You were looking for Nick, weren't you?! Oh, my gosh, did you find him?! Are you guys gonna dance and fall in love?!" she clasped her hands together; her outfit might be kind of awesome, but she was acting too girly to actually pull it off.

"Nope, we're going to go pants some random stranger," I deadpanned.

"What?!" she gaped at me.

"Sh, it was supposed to be a surprise!"

"Max! You can't possibly pants someone for no good reason!"

"Watch me, and Nick," I added the last part hastily.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "No, you aren't moving from this spot."

"I'll help you find James, and I'll get him to dance with you," I bribe like I do with the twins.

She rolled her eyes, "I don't want him to dance with me because you make him. If we're going to dance, then I want him to dance with me because he wants to!" she said like it was obvious. I mull that over in my mind, wondering what the difference could've been. After a couple of minutes, I sighed and knew I'd have to make some kind of deal if I wanted to see what Nick was up to.

"I'll let you come with me if we can go _right now_." I glance over my shoulder at the shut door.

Monique followed my gaze slowly, "He went in _there_? No way, that place is restricted; really bad deals are the only things that happen in there." She was slowly looking more and more nervous, "Max, why would Nick go in there?" she murmured.

"That's what I want to find out, Monique. Now, are you going to let me leave?" I snapped.

She nodded slowly, "But I'm coming with you."

"B-but," I stuttered, "you just said you wouldn't!" I exclaimed incredulously.

"Are we going or not? Come on, then."

I sigh, but follow her to the door that had "RESTRICTED" across the top of the door. She bit her lip and tried to turn the knob, but it was- of course- locked. Not wasting a second, she pulled a bobby-pin from somewhere in her hair and she shoved it into the keyhole. Jiggling the pin around for a few seconds, the door popped open just a crack so we wouldn't alert anyone inside. Through the small crack, all we could make out was darkness and some furniture that was covered with bed-sheets. I frowned; why in the hell would Nick want to go into a room like this?

Well, other than the darkness I suppose. He could be a vampire. That'd be kind of awesome...

"See, waste of time," Monique hissed.

I rolled my eyes, "We don't know that yet. I'm going in," I push the door open some more.

Monique grabs my arm, "But what if you're caught?! There could be dangerous people in there that could get angry at you for sneaking in. Then, they'll say you're trespassing and tie you up to a chair in a dark and spooky room. Nick will want to save you, too, but he'll be the second in command of the guy in charge of the freaky gang, and he'll have to obey his leader. So, it's like a forbidden romance where Nick can't see you anymore, so it kills him inside. Then, you'll find someone else, but you eventually realize no one can compare to Nick, so you'll go running back to him. And then-"

"Nudge!" I hiss.

"Oh, right," she giggles. "I'm really liking that nickname, you know? Now I can't get bruised from being nudged all the time," she smiles.

I sigh, "I'm going in, so either stay out here or come with me."

She groans, "I'll stay out here and keep watch."

"For James," I murmur; she shoots me a look but doesn't comment.

I slip through a small crack into the room to keep as much light out as possible. I blink rapidly trying to get my eyes to adjust enough to the darkness so I don't trip over something. Across the room of an old pool table, chairs, tables, and a bar was another door. Everything was covered in white bed sheets that were moth-eaten and yellowing quickly. Going over to the other door, I noticed the light creeping out from the crack at the bottom; I got down on one knee. Closing one eye, I used the other to peer through the keyhole; I could barely make out five or six figures in the room.

"What did I tell you?" Nick's familiar voice growled.

A voice I vaguely recognized as that Sam guy's replied, "Back off, man! I needed some lunch, but I forgot to grab some money from home. That nerd willingly handed it over to me," he nonchalantly shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Bullshit!" Nick gritted through his teeth.

A different guy stepped up, "Guys! Stop it! This isn't why we came here tonight," and I couldn't believe that I recognized the guy from the gas station, Dylan.

"I warned the bastard," Nick proclaimed, "He should've listened."

"What are you going to do about it?" Sam snapped.

Dylan groaned, "Don't rile him up, you idiot!"

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"Well, you are one!"

Before Sam could yell back at Dylan, Nick's fist collided with his jaw for the second time since I arrived here. I pinched my eyes shut for a few seconds as Nick threw a few more punches before letting Sam drop heavily to the floor. How could Sam, Nick, and Dylan connect? They were all so different; Sam was the total jock, Nick was the dark and mysterious one, and Dylan was the smart, popular guy. What they could possibly have to talk about alone really got me. Not to mention the other two or three guys in the room that had yet spoken since Nick started scolding Sam.

Dylan turned to the figures desperately, "Lissa? Tess? Aren't you going to help me?"

The first girl shook her head, "When Nick is angry, no one can get in his way."

"Lissa's right," the second girl piped up, "We aren't stupid, you know."

"Wouldn't count on that," Dylan mumbled, but the two girls either didn't hear him or decided to ignore the comment. "Nick, man!" he exclaimed, reaching to touch Sam's shoulder. "Did you really have to do this much damage?" he snapped.

Nick shrugged, back to his quiet, unresponsive self. The second girl, Tess, sighed, "We better get out of here, you guys. Let's get this over with."

Lissa nodded at Nick, "You got the stuff?"

"Of course he does," Sam coughed up some blood from the floor, "He's Nick for Christ sakes."

"Here," Nick tossed something on the table in the middle of the room. "Hurry up."

Dylan nods, "Light up and quick before we get caught."

Lissa sighed, but opened the package Nick had tossed on the table. My eyes widened slightly when she produced a bag of pot from the package along with a lighter and joint. Tess and Lissa got around the joint and the guys stood back, watching as they inhaled some of it. When they were over their coughing and hacking fits, Nick packed up the leftover pot and put it in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. The sight of the girls' eyes watering from one intake was enough to keep me away from it. I was confused as to why they had to do it; they don't look like the type to do drugs for no reason.

"Let's go," Sam struggled to his feet.

Nick glared at him, "That was your last chance. Blow it again and you're out," he warned. Sam nodded as quickly as he could with a very badly bruised or broken jaw.

Tess coughed some more, "So, are we in?"

"Please," Nick smirked, "that was only test one. Enjoy your party," he started to walk towards the door; I jumped back and ran for the other door.

Monique jumped when I ran outside, "What happened?!" she exclaimed. I took her wrist and tugged her into the crowd of students quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Heyy. Sorry I missed my update yesterday. It's my first year in college and I'm already getting work thrown onto me. XD Not to mention I still haven't figured out how to tell my parents I'm engaged... Any ideas? Lol. Kay, so last chapter was probably confusing, but don't you worry. Iggy gets his nickname in this one, and I suppose Nudge already has hers..._

_Just read and I'll bring some light on some things either next chapter or Chapter 13. Thanks for reading! **TELL YOUR FRIENDS! **Review! Pleeeeeazzzze!_

* * *

_Chapter Eleven_

"Wow, that's some weird shit," Monique said unhelpfully.

I sent her a pointed _"no duh?!" _look, but she didn't seem to really notice. We were sitting at a two-person table, drinking Coke and watching the people skate and bowl. She was looking for James in the crowd of people, of course, but she was still listening to the constant buzzing beside her ear that is me talking. I explained to her what I could about the scene I saw back in that room; she was pretty freaked. At least she didn't have to actually witness tough and scary Nick beating the crap out of built but weak Sam. It was like Nick overpowered him with just a simple twitch of his fingers; it was so weird.

"What does it mean, though?" I asked her even though I knew she was just as clueless as I was.

"Go ask him."

"Go ask who what?"

"Go ask Nick what all of that was about."

I stare at her for a few seconds, "That was the worst plan I have ever heard in my life. If I want to know what's going on, I'm going to have to get some background information. And to get some background information, I need to get close to the person that knows Nick the best."

Monique grins, "Well, that won't be hard. All you have to do is contact Maya."

"Who's Maya?"

"She's Nick's ex-girlfriend. They went out from, like, seventh grade to sophomore year, but then something happened. One day they were walking together in the hallway, holding hands and looking like they were married. Then, the next day, Maya and Nick just stopped talking and Nick started wearing darker clothes and he stopped talking like he used to. Rumor has it that Maya caught Nick with another girl, but no one in school really believes the rumor. Nick used to be the captain of the basketball team, and he was nice to everyone; Nick wouldn't be capable of cheating on someone he'd been with for four years."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Well, what happened to this Maya?"

"She transferred schools last year," Monique said, thinking back. "Apparently, she was knocked up with Nick's kid, and she didn't want him to be in its life. However, everyone knows that the whole pregnancy was a rumor; there were tons of those centered on Nick and Maya. They were that couple you thought would go to college together, get married straight out of college, and then live in the suburbs with two kids. Anyway, she transferred to that private school, Mullview Academy, in the next town over. No one's really talked to her since the whole transfer thing."

"You sure know a lot about something that doesn't include you," I tap my fingers on the tabletop.

She shrugs, "Maya and I hung out sometimes at parties. We were friends in, like, third grade, but that ended like a lot of friendships tend to do around here. I know a lot about it because my mom knows Maya's mom and I listen to them gossip with each other over the phone."

I nod slowly, "So you think I should contact this Maya girl?"

Monique bites her bottom lip, "I guess it's worth a shot. But, don't get your hopes too high because I doubt Maya will want to talk about Nick after two years of trying to forget him. Don't be straightforward with her, either, like asking about how Nick got pot. That's just stupid, first of all, and would probably end in Nick getting thrown into jail."

"All of these tips are useless because I know them all," I roll my eyes.

She shrugged, "I'm just saying."

"Do you want to come visit this Maya girl with me, too? Or are you going to let me go on my own this time?"

"I could come with you. You don't know what Maya even looks like, anyway, and she doesn't know you. I wouldn't like it if some random girl I had never seen in my life came up to me and asked me about one of my ex-boyfriends."

"Too bad for her then."

"You're so considerate," she said sardonically.

"I know… it's a gift," I smirked.

"There he is!" she suddenly exclaimed loudly, earning us a few looks. I face-palm and then drop my forehead to the table while Monique blushes, yet continues to watch James.

When I peek up, I see he's not that far away from us. Ella would spot him soon if he didn't manage to disappear somewhere; the guy was really tall. I nudged Monique, "Why don't you close your mouth before you catch flies and go talk to him?" I tried. She looked at me as if I had grown two wings, a tail, devil horns, and maybe some fur patches.

"Are you being serious?" she gaped.

"Yeah, he's just a person. Besides, I think I'm about to go home. You're going to need someone else to talk with for the rest of the night."

She pouted, "But, I'm too nervous…" she mumbled.

I slid my jacket back on; it had gotten really hot in here. Maybe it was because Monique had insisted we sit away from everyone else in the darkest and hottest corner of the place. All these bodies were making the air stifling; I'm extremely claustrophobic after what happened with my dad and I. Anyway, the last thing I wanted to do was stay in this place when Monique wasn't telling me that I had to stay. Before, every time I tried to leave she would tell me I had to stay longer or I technically didn't "party". I also don't want to waste my time trying to convince someone else to do something when I could go to sleep.

"Fine, then don't talk to him; walk me to the door instead," I insist. She stands up reluctantly and grabs her purse and her jacket before weaving with me into the crowd. Once we're close enough, I shove Monique straight into James, who catches her with this startled look. I smirk, "See you later!" I waggle my fingers over my shoulder, shoving open the door to the building and starting my walk home.

* * *

"Miss Martinez, lovely you could join us on this fine day!" Mr. Gregory exclaimed sarcastically.

"It's too early for a teacher to use sarcasm with me," I waved my hand in his general direction. This morning I had literally rolled out of bed, threw my hair up, and left the house. I was still in my black and maroon plaid pajama pants and black tank top; I had thrown on some black flip-flops on my way out.

He looked me over disapprovingly, "What are you _wearing_?"

I smirked as I took a seat around the back of classroom, three away from Nick. "Pajamas because I should still be sleeping right now," I shrugged.

"Here, here!" James cheered half-heartedly.

You know it's too early when _James _sounds tired.

After a few more muttered words about my appearance, he went back to his clipboard. This Saturday detention had a newcomer; James was sitting around the middle area. He was texting someone under the desk, his lips curved upwards in a permanent grin-smirk. Holden was gone, as was Star; a girl with curly red hair sat in Star's place beside Sam, who took Holden's place. Ratchet was back with Nick and I since he had done that middle-school prank where you stick ketchup packets under the toilet seat. He did it in the guys' bathroom, so you can imagine how freaked a few guys were when they saw "blood" dripping down the toilet.

"Pst," Ratchet poked my bicep, "Maaaaax," he whined.

I sighed, "You drawing out my name like that is probably the most annoying thing ever."

He pouted, "Really? You don't find it cute or adorable?" he fluttered his dark eyes. I looked back at him impassively; I swear he and Iggy were long lost twins.

"Nope, just annoying."

"Fine then, I was just going to ask you if you were at the party last night. I didn't leave until really late, but I never saw you around," he frowned.

I pick at a loose thread in my pajama bottoms, "Yeah I was there. I left early because…" my eyes flitted over to Nick, who was openly listening to our conversation. "Because parties aren't really my thing; especially ones that could be for a fourteen-year-old," I finish. His mouth makes a small "o" shape as he nods; I'm just glad I managed to get that out of my mouth without stuttering and saying something stupid. I turned to Nick, "Did you go to the party, Nick?"

He looked back at me, eyes blocked from any emotion. "Yeah, for a bit," he says shortly.

Mr. Gregory finally left the room and the six of us were left alone once again. Sam's jaw was a dark purple bruise that stuck out from the rest of his normal face. He was literally sitting as far away from Nick as possible; I smirked a little to myself. James had set his phone aside ten minutes after Mr. Gregory left just to start messing with something. It looked kind of like the mini-bomb Gazzy was making in the living room a couple days ago. Ratchet was trying to get Nick to talk, but Nick remained standing with his one-word answers, shrugs, and short nods.

"Max," James plopped down in the open seat in front of me.

I sighed, forcing my eyes from my desk to his face, "What?" I moan.

"You want to help me set this up?" he asks eagerly, showing me what he had been working on earlier.

The box was almost as big as my hand if not smaller. It had wires sticking out of it and only three buttons were on the silver surface. One was green, one was red, and one was probably the brightest and most sickening color of yellow I had ever seen.

"What is that?" I sighed, crossing my arms and resting them on my desktop.

He grins, "It's a stink bomb, silly! Look, all you have to do is press the green button and it'll give you five minutes before it goes off. The red is an emergency shut down because I'm not sure if it'll work; I've only ever made one working stink bomb before. And the yellow is to increase the stink to the point you want to rip off your nose and hide yourself in your bed!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"That sounds lovely," I deadpan sarcastically.

He pouts, "You aren't going to help?"

"Go ignite your bomb elsewhere, Igniter," I wave him away aimlessly.

"Wait, what'd you call me?"

"Um… Igniter?" I stated although it came out as more of a question.

"I like that!" he exclaims, clapping his hands. "My new nickname can be Igniter Man!" he jumped up onto the desk in front of me. I covered my face with my hands, refusing to look up him as he started to loudly sing the Batman theme song.

The girl with really curly red hair, however, looked back at us. "That's too long and nerdy."

James cracks up laughing, "Just like Ratchet's di-"

"DON'T SAY IT!" the redhead and I yell, quickly cutting him off. James bursts into a fit of giggles; Nick looked quite amused and Sam was fighting the urge to burst out laughing.

Nick spoke- surprisingly all of us, "How would you know if it was long, Iggy?"

I laughed while James scowled down at the desk he was still standing on. Then, he suddenly perked up, "_Iggy! _That's it! I like that nickname. Now, I'm Iggy and Monique is Nudge!" he claps and jumps back off of the desk. "Now that it's settled," he continued before anyone could say something about his new "nickname", "who wants to help me set the bomb?"

Sam got up along with Ratchet, "I'll help," they said together.

"Alright, then! All aboard the Ja- Iggy train! _Whoop, whoop_!" he made his own honking train noise.

I rubbed my temples as the redhead got out of her desk. "Where do you want to set it up?"

"Somewhere within connecting distance of my remote control," Jam- I mean, Iggy said. "Which may or may not work," he mumbled.

They went around the room, pin-pointing which places Mr. Gregory went closest to. They settled on the top corner of the room that was close behind me. Since they decided to put it so close, I was forced to move a few seats down- closer to Nick. It wasn't that it bothered me to sit by Nick since he definitely won't end up trying to strike up conversation, but _still_. Jame- Iggy, I mean (that's going to get some taking used to. Just like Nudge will) was happy with his bomb. He picked up a tiny remote from his desk and made sure he would be able to sit down and control the bomb. This is going to end up in disaster. We all know it.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Sorry about being a couple days late. But, hey, what can you do? I've been spending my time with homework and my stressed out fiancee (he's scared my step-dads going to beat him to a pulp when we tell my parents we're engaged). Anyway, here's your finally finished chapter. It's not my best, but it gives you a look into Nick/Fang's life, which is cool. We still have a long way to go in this story... So, here you go!_

* * *

_Chapter Twelve_

Saturday detention went quickly. Because I fell asleep. Like, I seriously pushed together some desks, threw my sweatshirt on top of them, and laid down on top to take a nap; Nick was kind enough to give me the gray sweatshirt he was wearing under his leather jacket to make a makeshift pillow. It smelt _really _good, by the way; just letting you know in case you were wondering. Anyway, I was rudely awoken by Ratchet shaking my shoulder, telling me Mr. Gregory was right outside the door. Nick helped me push the desks back to their original positions before we got in our seats; Mr. Gregory pushed into the room.

His beady eyes scanned over the six of us slowly. "Everything seems to be in order…" he trailed off, picking up four textbooks. Without a pause, he dropped them on the plastic seat he was being forced to us until they could fix the one Nick and I took apart.

I stifled my laugh with my hand while Iggy raised his hand. "Why are you trying to break your chair?"

Mr. Gregory shook his head, "Nothing," he muttered. He put the textbooks back on his desk; I had a feeling he dropped those on his chair quite often. "You still have ten minutes in detention," he snapped, "do something useful with yourselves!" I sighed and crossed my arms on my desk, dropping my forehead on them and yawning lowly.

"You slept for three hours," Nick murmured from beside me, "How are you still tired?"

"Saturday's are my only mornings to sleep in," I whispered back, not lifting my head. "Sunday's are when I have to watch the twins, which means I have to get up at school hours."

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat. "Sucks for you."

"You're a lovely person, you know that?"

"It's a gift," he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes and was about to reply until _Iggy _turned around in his seat to look at us. Of course, I didn't know this until Nick nudged my bare foot with his dirty high-tops. Reluctantly lifting my head, I saw Iggy gesturing at us to cover our noses in twenty seconds. He had pressed the remote on the controller without telling us first and the five-minute countdown was almost over. Mentally preparing myself, counting down, I saw Nick had his hand ready to go over his mouth in case it went off before we finish counting. When I hit zero, I quickly covered my mouth and nose with my tank-top, exposing some of my stomach to the cold.

Mr. Gregory was too busy failing children on their first test to notice us cringing. The smell started out around my old seat and seemed to slowly move through the room. It was kind of like lava, falling over itself and sluggishly covering the room with the deadliness. I'm sure that if I didn't have my nose and mouth covered, I would be on the floor and choking right now. The redhead, whom I learned was that Lissa girl, coughed slightly, sucking in some of the bad air on accident. Mr. Gregory looked up as her eyes started watering, and yet she refused to remove her hand.

"What the hell is going-," Mr. Gregory stopped. He sniffed the air like a dog would, "Good Lord…" he murmured, getting out of his seat. "What is that?!" he exclaimed.

I, mentally patting myself on the back, yelled back, "It's a gas leak! We told you not to eat those beans for lunch!"

"Don't be smart with me, Martinez!" he snapped, hearing the sarcastic tone in my voice. Before he could continue, Iggy pressed the yellow button his remote. The bomb, which had been tucked into a corner, started to _leak _the toxic air into the room. Mr. Gregory started to cough, his eyes watering, and his face turned red as the smell hit him full force.

I would've laughed, but that would require sucking in bad air. It was too late, and I was accidently sucking air into my lungs as I laughed. My laughs turned into hacking coughs, making me fall out of my chair at the ungodly small, "Jeezum!" I yelled.

Nick was chuckling in his throat; I could hear it. "You alright?" he looked down at me.

"Do I seem alright to you?!" I choked out.

"What's it smell like?" Ratchet chimed, keeping his hand over his nose and mouth.

Mr. Gregory was hacking and coughing too much; he was trying to call the office. I choked out between my strangled coughs, "Like my brother's terrible digestive system!" I exclaimed.

Iggy cackled like a witch, "I wanna meet that kid!"

"No! You might help him build one of these things! He's a big enough pyro as it is," I desperately snatched Nick's jacket off of his desk.

He stared at me as I pushed my nose into the soft inside of the leather jacket, breathing in. It looked like he wanted to rip off my head for even thinking about touching the leather jacket he's always wearing. I'll be honest when I say I expected the jacket to smell of sweat and smoke. Instead, the smell of something a lot like chocolate mixed in with a woodsy scent overwhelmed me. There was the faint whiff of Axe like Nick had thrown it on last second, but most of the smell was completely natural. I couldn't help but breathe outwards, content with the small that now overwhelmed my nose just like how his sweatshirt had.

"Let's get out of here!" Lissa jumped up from her desk, rushing out of the room with her bag.

Mr. Gregory exclaimed in outrage, "Detention hasn't ended yet! You still have a half hour!" his face was turning an unhealthy shade of purple.

"Not with this smell," I muffled behind Nick's jacket.

"It doesn't matter! Get back in here!"

"Not on your life!" Lissa yelled from the hallway.

Reluctantly, I slipped my black flip-flops back on and grabbed my bag. Have you ever worn flip-flops to school and you just _have _to take them off under your desk because it feels so rebellious? High-fives for the ones that said yes! Nick followed me, snatching his sweatshirt up and following me out of the room. Iggy was laughing in the middle of the stink, his hand plugging his nose; Ratchet was doing the same. Nick and I both contemplated dragging them from the room, but we eventually just decided to leave. We walked to the parking lot together again, but this time Lissa was waiting by Nick's motorcycle.

Lissa was pretty; I had to admit it. Her red hair is curly, and she lets it frame her face without yanking a hair straightener on it. She was always wearing jeans, the occasional skirt, and shorts with band t-shirts, blouses, or button-ups. In a way, I kind of wished she had makeup piling on her face, but she's not even close to that. The only thing I could tell she was wearing was concealer that hid the freckles on her cheeks and nose; I always wanted freckles. You could only tell she was wearing makeup if you were close enough, but I saw them today since she didn't bother to put on enough concealer to hide her freckles completely.

She looked at me, her face twisted into his ugly little sneer. "_Nick_," she exaggerated his name as we got closer; she gestured to me.

I glanced over at Nick, who felt my gaze and looked back at me. "What?" he glared back at Lissa.

"We have places to _go_," she hissed, "Tell your girlfriend goodbye."

"Wow, aren't you just _lovely_," I scoffed, tossing Nick's leather jacket back at him. "Thanks for the cover up, I'll see you Monday," I saluted to Lissa sarcastically. "Be seeing you around, ginger."

"My name is Lissa!"

"No shit!" I had my back to her as I trudged to the bus stop.

* * *

**Third Person POV**

Once Max was out of sight, Nick turned back to Lissa. She used to be cool, but then girls started coming onto Nick and she just went completely insane. He only let her join his "little project" because she had a good resistance to things like smoke. Not to mention she had some good agility and she did well when it came to blending into a crowd. He would need her if he wanted to get the plan he had worked on for years done and over with. It was time to get back what his mom lost, but it would take a well thought out plan and skilled people to get it done and over with; the reward would be worth it.

"What was that about?" Nick snapped at Lissa, sliding his leather jacket back on.

Lissa rolled her eyes, "You're so blind. She totally likes you," she declared, pushing some of her red hair over her shoulder.

"She doesn't know me."

"Exactly, but I do," she leaned in to peck his lips, but he turned his head quickly. Her lips brushed his cheek and she pouted, "Why do you keep doing that? You haven't had a problem with kissing me in the past…" she noted, trailing off.

"That was a long time ago," Nick gritted his teeth. "I have to go. Move," he deadpanned.

Lissa sighed, "Nick, I know you're still kind of broken up about Maya. But, you gave her up for me, so-" she was cut off by the fierce glare Nick was giving her.

"I never left her for you," he growled. "Stop, and move," he commanded, any self-control gone.

The redhead threw her arms in the air, "Why are you always like this towards me?! You're never like this towards that blonde girl Max! Do you like her or something? I know she looks like Maya, but you don't know this girl like you knew Maya."

Nick was mentally flinching at every word because it was all true; Max looked a lot like the ex-girlfriend he swore he was in love with. But that wasn't why he was calm around Max; he was calm because he wanted to do what he usually did. He'd make a good first impression to bring her in. He'd get her to trust him, and then he'd get her to help him. Max would be perfect for the hardest part of his plan; she'd do better than Lissa, Sam, Dylan, or Tess could ever do. Lissa wouldn't understand; no one could understand him after he broke everything off with Maya for reasons no one else knew.

Maya didn't even know why he suddenly ended it.

Without answering Lissa, Nick shoved on his black helmet. He revved his motorcycle and took off without a single glance back at the steaming angry redhead. Pouring on the speed, Nick angrily weaved in and out of traffic as he thought about _him. He _was the reason Nick's life took a sharp turn in the worst direction- the direction of quiet and reserved and hidden. _He _was the reason Nick had to push everyone away until his plan was put into action and over with. Nick couldn't get close to anyone until this was all over- until _he _was gone, and then Nick could go back to his own life.

However, he didn't think he'd be able to just go back to his old life.

When Nick pulled up in front of his house, his legs were instantly hit by a harsh force. "Woah!" Nick exclaimed, a tiny smirk curving up the corner of his mouth. He shut the door behind him and ruffled the feathery hair on top of his little brother's head.

Ari looked up at his brother, a wide grin spreading on his young face. "Nick! Did I scare you?!"

Nick gently unattached Ari from his legs, "You sure did, little buddy. Where's Mom?" he picked him up and swung him gently on his back so Ari could wrap his legs around him and hold on.

"She was in the kitchen…" Ari furrowed his eyebrows adorably. "Maybe she left the kitchen… I dunno."

Nick nodded, not expecting any more from Ari's instructions. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Um…" his face contorted expression that would give you the impression he was thinking about whether or not he wanted to cut off his mother's life support or keep her on it. That was a bad comparison. Sorry. "Chicken!" Ari finally exclaimed happily.

"What kind of kitchen?" Nick set Ari down on the dining room table; their mother was nowhere in sight.

Ari shrugged, "Cooking chicken…?" he furrowed his eyebrow, confused.

Nick chuckled, "Do you want honey mustard chicken? Chicken casserole? Chicken tacos? Chicken wings? Come on, bud, I could go on forever.

"That would be a miracle," their mom suddenly stepped into the kitchen. Nick gave her a look, which she promptly brushed off with a sweet little smile. She kissed his forehead and then kissed the top of Ari's head, "Thank you for offering to cook, Nicholas."

"No problem," Nick shrugged. "Is your boy-toy joining us?" he ground out.

"Not tonight," Marian Janssen sighed, "You really should-"

"Give him a chance," Nick interrupted, "Yeah, I know."

"We still need to talk about what happened at school a few weeks ago. Why on earth would you tell your principal that Roland and I wouldn't care if you got into trouble?! Nicholas Janssen-"

Nick glared at her, "My name is legally Nick Ride now. You know that. About the whole school thing, it can wait until Ari's in bed with a full stomach." Marian sighed tiredly, turned around, and left defeatedly.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: You guys are awesome, you know? I've gotten some suggestions, I've gotten lots of great reviews, and I'm glad you don't think this story is cliche. I honestly love this chapter. I find it completely different from ANY story I've ever read. So... enjoy. Oh and **Duskingdawn **I'd like to thank you for bringing that to my attention. I thought it was putting the linebreaks in for me! Cause, I had them on Microsoft Word, but I guess it doesn't do that. Anyway, I'll go through the chapters and put in those line breaks! Thanks, Love!_

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen_

How many times have I clearly stated that I hate my life? It wasn't Ella this time; this time it was my mother and the way she seemed to love controlling my life. You know what I'm talking about don't you invisible audience in my head? Let's reflect back about when she sent me to therapy, sent me to a party, made me start taking the bus, and all of the other things you don't know about. When I went to my therapy sessions the following Wednesday after Saturday detention, my mind was slightly troubled. Nick had disappeared; the one time when I wanted to stop and ask him something and he just doesn't show up to school.

Why, Max, what could you possibly have to ask Nick?! Those are your thoughts, aren't they? No, I'm not physic even though I could totally pass for it; I just have this uncanny way to see someone and get a sense of what their thoughts are like. Anyway, I didn't need to ask him some personal and deep question; it was actually Omega that wanted me to ask him. Omega wanted me to ask Nick if he would be going to his own session that Friday. That's it; I just wanted to get it over with and then go get my shrink session over with so I could go home and collapse in bed.

"Max!" it was the too-cheery tone in Omega's voice that made me suspicious.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Sup?" I mumbled, brushing past him on the way to his office. Omega swallowed harshly and followed me, pushing open the door for me. I gave him a weird look but went inside, taking a seat in my usual place.

He plopped happily down in his own seat, "So, how are you dear?!"

"You're giving me a headache. What's your problem?"

"Blunt, are you?" he muttered, some of his happiness dissipating at my lack of interest. He sighed, but kept the smile on his face, which wasn't helping my paranoia at all. Seriously, a grown man was looking at me with a smile that made me think about Insidious 2. "Anyway, how are your grades? Have they been looking up over the past week?"

I pretended to think, stroking my imaginary chin beard. "No," I deadpan.

"That's… unfortunate," he coughs awkwardly. "What about friends, have you made any of those?"

"Not really, but an idiot and a motor-mouth keep randomly talking to me. That's improvement," I say sarcastically. He looked at a loss for words, which made a side of my mouth curve into a smirk. The sudden image of Nick that flashed in my mind as I did that did not go unnoticed by myself.

"So, you haven't made friends with Nick? He's a lovely boy," he trailed off.

"I don't like "lovely" people."

"Well, I sort of thought he was your type… Dark, silent, scary…"

"Are you trying to play matchmaker now or something?"

"No, of course not!" he rubbed his temples. "Alright, let's talk about something else and quickly. Are you thinking about joining any clubs or teams at school?"

"Nope."

"Max, I think you should really at least think about joining a club or some kind of sports team."

"There's nothing that interests me," I say instantly, shifting my eyes away from him. Talking about something that would require me to stay at school ever longer than usual is torture. I should've seen it coming when he picked up the notebook and opened to a few pages that were labeled with my name.

He tapped the eraser of his pencil against the page as he read something over. Meanwhile, my eyes were watching as a little black spider made a trek across the shaggy carpet. It was moving slowly, obviously tired; I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. Before I could do anything to maybe help it get off of the shaggy rug, a book dropped down on it. My gaze snapped up to see Omega murmuring something about spiders being such pests and stuff like that. I sat back in the couch, crossing my arms over my chest; he just crushed a spider like reality crushed my life when my dad died.

That was so deep I need a float to stay out of the depths.

"Your mother called me yesterday for our usual… chat," he informed me casually. He adjusted the thin black glasses that sat soundly on the bridge of his nose; I never noticed those before. "We got into talking about how you tend to run a lot."

Knowing that I was eventually going to have to tell him _something_; I let my wall down for a split second to let some of my thoughts slip through. "Yeah, I run a lot. I run to get rid of frustration, anger, sadness, and to let go of reality for a little while." Omega looked shocked that he had actually managed to get something out of me that I was serious about.

He cleared his throat, "Why do you like to let go of reality, Max?"

"Reality is where my dad is gone, what my little sister is sick, and where my mom is drowning in debt," I picked at a loose string in my jeans. "Running gives me this… feeling. Like nothing can touch me."

"And… you like this feeling?"

"Yes," I ran my fingers through my hair, "it's the same thing with my music. I can blast Black Veil Brides or Asking Alexandria to just _forget _once and a while." I abruptly shut my mouth, pulling a leg onto the couch to rest my chin on my knee.

Omega immediately noticed the walls that slid up, blocking anything else from his knowledge. "I see."

"What else did you and my mom talk about?"

"We think you joining a club or a team could help you get used to this school more…" He looked down as my eyes flashed upwards, fire raging in the light brown depths that had suddenly turned dark. When my eyes went dark, you could clearly tell that I was pissed because I knew where this was going. I knew my mother had once again made a decision about _my _life without informing me about it. Omega swallowed harshly, "So, your mother put your name down for the Track and Field team…"

I sprung up from the couch, "WHAT?!" I screeched.

"Max, calm down!" Omega got up as well.

"You don't control me!" I pointed at him, yanking my bag onto my shoulder. "No one owns me! Not my mother, not Ella, not my dad, not reality, not depression, and certainly not _you_!"

I stormed out of Omega's office, slamming the door behind me on my way. Omega rushed out after me, but I was already in the parking lot by the time he made it to the lobby. The first thing my eyes landed on was a familiar motorcycle, sitting across the street at the gas station. I crossed the empty road, glancing around to see if Nick was anywhere in sight. He wasn't anywhere in sight, but the idiot was idiotic enough to leave the keys in the bag attached to the back of the motorcycle. Swinging onto the motorcycle and twisting the key in the ignition was my first mistake.

The second mistake was me taking off without putting the kickstand up. This effected with me skidding a little; I cursed myself and stopped long enough to push it up with my heel. With rage burning behind my eyes, I once again revved the motorcycle and took off. Hopefully, doing all those dirt bike games in Frankie's Fun Park would be enough to at least get me somewhere else. My eyes stung at the wind whipping into my face as I weaved between cars, tears flying out because of the wind. I wasn't crying; I hadn't cried since my dad passed away.

Before I could register what was happening, I heard them. Loud sirens wailed behind the high-jacked motorcycle I was just happened to be driving. I moaned, but pulled over after a good twenty seconds of thinking over my options. With my face in my hands, I waited as I heard the officer pull up behind me and get out of his car. My thoughts were running wild, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for why I was driving a stolen motorcycle with no license, helmet, or jacket to cover my arms. It wasn't like I could tell him I was running from my shrink's office; that would make me look like a nutcase.

"License and registration?" the officer asked; his voice was abnormally high and squeaky.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. Yeah, I know this is such an inappropriate time to be laughing, but his voice sounded like it never hit puberty while the rest of him did. "I. um, left them at home…" I trailed off awkwardly.

The cop looked up, eyes set in a hard expression. "Miss you were going 87 in a 50 zone and you don't even have your license to show me?"

"Well…" I mumbled, but gave up with a short sigh, "Yes."

"Step off the vehicle, Miss."

"Come on! I have to get home, and-"

"Now, Miss."

"I'm sure we can work something else out-"

"Off the bike before I drag you off."

Reluctantly, I swung my leg over the motorcycle to get off of it. The cop quickly cuffed my wrists and read me the usual stuff about my rights and all that stuff. My mother was going to have my head for this, and I'm pretty sure Nick is going to be pissed, too. He called on his radio for someone at the station to come and get the motorcycle. I was shoved into the backseat with my hands cramped up behind me and one leg drawn to my chest to rest my chin on my knee. Officer Braden- as his little tag proclaimed- spat insults at me as he drove to the station.

"What's this one in for?" the woman behind the front desk asked as I was shoved inside.

Officer Braden glanced at her, "She was going 87 in a 50 zone," he rolled his eyes. "Teenagers these days, huh?"

I snorted, "Like you never sped in your life."

"Never!" he gasped, looking totally shocked.

"Wow, goody-two-shoes much?"

"Miss, I don't think you know how much trouble you're in right now. Be smart and shut your mouth before I'm forced to use force," he commanded.

I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut as he dragged me towards a door. I won't lie and say I fought and tugged away, hit him like a boss, and flipped out of there; please, he dragged me like a ragdoll. He opened it with a key card and shoved me inside before him. The inside of my cheek started _bleeding _because of how hard I had to bite it to keep from exclaiming some inappropriate words. People in suits of the law were everywhere, guarding three cells that held six people that looked completely miserable and a bit dangerous. I tore my eyes away from a particularly large, thirty-something-year-old man that was looked me up and down.

He pushed me down into a rolling chair in front of a desk. "Stay here. I'm going to get someone to handle you," he glared at me and left me there with my handcuffs still locked on my wrists.

With a loud groan, my head dropped back against the uncomfortable metal chair. It wasn't long before a woman- thank everything holy- same over to me and dropped down behind the desk. She looked at me skeptically, "This is something much bigger than just speeding, Miss Martinez."

"How do you know my name?" I glare back at her.

"You're new in town, everyone knows your name," she replied snidely.

I huffed, "Fine, what's the big deal about speeding for the first time _ever_?"

"You were speeding without a license on a stolen motorcycle…this is a huge deal, Miss Martinez."

I swallowed harshly, "I didn't steal a motorcycle!"

"Really?" a voice asked from behind me; I twisted my neck at an awkward angle. Nick was standing slightly behind me with a single eyebrow higher than the other on his forehead.

I swore under my breath, "I didn't _steal _it. I was _borrowing _it… without permission."

"Mr. Ride," the woman sighed, looking over at Nick. She was exactly like Miss Dwyer with this _dreamy _look in her eyes as she looked at the boy that is probably more than twelve years younger than her. I scoffed, but she continued, "You have grounds to press charges."

His dark eyes locked onto me, quickly scanning my face. He saw my red cheeks, swollen eyes, crazy hair, and the desperate look in my eyes that was begging him to get me out of this. "No need," he said finally.

The woman gaped, but quickly scrambled to get over it, "Fine," she ground out. "However, there are still consequences for not having a license and for speeding. We're going to have to call your mother," she reached for her phone and I groaned again, throwing back my head. Fuck my life.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hey guys, thanks so much for favoriting and reviewing! It means a lot! Sorry this took so long. I thought I put it up before I left for Tennessee, but apparently not. We, as in my fiancee and I, went to visit his parents to tell them about the engagement. All went well! My parents are the ones we're freaking out about. Special thanks to **ash1151 **because your review meant a lot! Okay, well that's enough rambling from me...  
_

_Chapter Fourteen_

After a lot of bribing from Nick, the woman came to her conclusion. I now had to spend four hours for the next six Sunday's doing community service like picking up trash and stuff. Along with that, I would have to pay $2,000; my mother was going to murder me. Mom was absolutely furious when she picked up the phone just to find out I had gotten in trouble with the law this time. I was released from my handcuffs with a few dirty looks from the officers anywhere close to me. The woman grumbled the entire time she was unlocking them; I followed Nick out of the station after that.

"Want a ride?" he asked quietly.

I looked at him with big eyes, "You'd give me a ride after I stole your motorcycle?" He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and starting towards his motorcycle. Biting my lip, I sighed and ran after him, "Well, wait for me!"

He slid off his leather jacket and threw it to me, "Put it on."

"Why?" I gave him a weird look, but put the jacket on anyway.

"Protection," he murmured and then also handed me his helmet. "Get on," he stuck the key in the ignition and revved the engine loudly.

I shoved the helmet on my head and zipped up the too-big jacket. It hung down around my mid-thighs and the sleeves were long enough to hide my hands in the depths. Instantly coated in heat, I immediately started sweating and I tried to remember if I had put on deodorant this morning. When I couldn't come up with an answer, I mentally groaned in defeat. Still, I threw my leg over the bike and settled my feet on the little pedal things with my arms resting around Nick's waist. The helmet had a visor to keep the wind out of my face while Nick slid on some sunglasses instead.

"Ready?" he asked over the rumbling of the engine.

Resting my chin on his broad shoulder, I nodded. "Ready!" and he literally took off.

The woman was scolding _me _for speeding when she should really be locking him up for it. He was reaching 80 while screeching down streets, but his driving was so much smoother. While I was jerky and constantly looking around me, his arms were rock hard and steady. Seeing that he was distracted, I slowly removed one hand from around his waist to rest it on his other shoulder. If he noticed, he didn't do anything to acknowledge me while my fingers trailed down to his bicep. Yep, I squeezed his bicep; the thing was rock solid and I could barely wrap two hands around it with my fingers connecting.

"Are you really feeling me up right now?" Nick asked, his smug voice dripping with amusement.

I flushed, "Psh, no!"

"Sure," he trailed off, and I could tell he was smirking. I moved my arm back to his waist, and then I glanced around at the things that were passing us at an ungodly speed. We were on a four-lane road, and Nick was easily weaving in and out enough to escape any oncoming traffic. He got a lot of honks and I'm pretty sure half the population of this town was currently cussing him out, but we were getting through.

"Do you know where you're going?!" I yelled over the sound of the wind rushing past. Nick abruptly turned into the parking lot of a gas station, making me yelp at the sudden change.

He came to a stop and then looked at me, "No."

It would be awesome if this was one of those stories where the guy just happened to know where the girl lived. And yet she never expects him to be a stalker. Instead, this is my life where I have to explain in detail about where I live. You're probably wondering why I won't just give him my address so that way he can drop me off with a kiss goodnight (enter my sarcastic snort here with a "like that would _ever _happen"). I can't give him the address because I don't know the address. This has probably the longest, most exhausting day of my life and I can't even get home to pass out.

"Oh, well neither do I…" I trail off, biting my lip; I push the visor up on the helmet.

Nick mutters under his breath for a second before looking at me. "You're being serious?"

"Does it look like I would ever joke about something like this?!" I gestured to my face. He opened his mouth to answer, but I quickly cut him off because I realized how stupid that question was. "Don't answer that. I'll just… explain the route I use on the bus," I decided.

He rolled his eyes, "Learn your address."

"I'm working on it!" I exclaimed indignantly.

Turning back to the front, he once again started up the motorcycle. My arms returned to their places around his waist after I flipped my visor back down. It took fifty minutes of my shitty instructions and Nick's annoyed huffs before I recognized my house. The yellow kind of stuck out from the brick houses surrounding it; Nick snickered quietly when he noticed. I slapped him on the shoulder as he turned into the short driveway, turning off the motorcycle. Quickly, I swung off just to stumble and fall on my ass; Nick amusedly looks down at me with both eyebrows raised.

"Good thing you were wearing the helmet. We don't need you getting more brain damage," he smirked at me.

"Shut up," I grumbled, but didn't make a move to get up.

"You don't want some help getting off your ass? Because I seem to be doing a lot of that lately."

"You know, just because you're Mr. Smooth with the biggest ego but shortest speaking record on this planet doesn't mean you can make fun of me for _one _mistake." He looked at me in disbelief. I huffed, "Fine, _two _mistakes," I gave in.

He nodded, satisfied, "Do you want to explain?"

"Not necessarily."

"Fine," he shrugged his shoulders.

This is where I should pour my heart and soul out to him, right? Where I should tell him all about how my dad passed, and about my "troubled" past. Instead, I just glared at him, "You're annoying, you know?"

"Still haven't heard the thank you," he shrugged.

"If you keep doing that, your shoulders will get stuck."

Just to mess with me, he shrugged five times in a row. "That'd be a shame."

"It'll be a shame when you have a broken nose to go with it."

"Nice comeback. Helmet?" he reached his hand out towards me.

I got back on my feet and yanked the helmet off of me, handing it over. He set it on his lap and reached out once again for the leather jacket. Slightly reluctant to part with it, I slowly unzipped it and slid it down and off my arms. It wasn't that I wanted to keep it so that way I could "have a piece of him tonight when I go to sleep". Oh, hell to the no; I wanted to keep it so I could wash it because I'm pretty sure it's drenched in my sweat. Hey, it's not my fault he made me put on a leather jacket in weather that felt like my skin was slowly being melted off of my body.

"You seem particularly chatty today," I smirked. "Anything else you want to say before you race into the night on your motorcycle?"

"Yeah," he says surprising me. "Do it again, and I won't be so easy on you."

I held my hands up in mock surrender, "Wouldn't dream of it, Nicholas."

He glares at me, "You sure I'm the annoying one?" and then he left.

With my mouth still gaping open, I turn to look at the urine-colored house behind me. I cursed when I glanced at my wrist watch and found that it was going on midnight. My mom was pissed enough, being home way past my curfew was just going to make it worse. As quietly as I could, I pushed open the front door after quickly unlocking it. It creaked, making me pinch my eyes shut; my back was awkwardly bent like I was a hunchback as I tried to quietly make it inside. Because, you know, the way my back is totally makes a difference when it comes to being quiet.

"Maximum Martinez!" it wasn't my mother that hissed at me on my way upstairs.

I mentally groaned when I found Ella, hands on her hips, at the top of the stairs. "What?" I hissed back quietly, continuing on my journey up the creaking stairs.

"Do you know how much trouble you're in? Not only did you just put Mom into a place with _more _debt than we already owe. But you also ruined her respect for you! You stole a motorcycle when you knew that you can't even drive one. We're lucky you made it out alive!" she sure sounded like my mom; she looked like her, too.

I held up my hand to get her to just stop talking. Jesus, the people in my family can _talk _and sometimes they all just blend together in my ears. "Ella, I'm sure I'm going to be getting the _exact same _lecture from Mom in the morning. So, I need you to move to the side, let me go to my bedroom, pass out on my bed, and then I can wake up with a long night's sleep. Isn't that fair?" I brushed past her.

"You've gone too far this time, Max," she murmured from behind me.

My shoulders tensed, "I went too far in Maine. This isn't Maine, and I haven't done any of that stuff since the move. Don't you _dare _act like you're the perfect daughter because you aren't!" I hissed.

She let out a shaky breath, pivoted on her heels, and shut her bedroom door behind her. I rubbed at my temples, my eyes shutting as I tried to gain my regular breathing pattern back. After a few seconds, I went to the door of the twins' bedroom to make sure they were good. Both were sound asleep, blonde curls thrown all over their pillowcases while they curl into their blankets and stuffed animals. I finally made it to my own bedroom where the dark walls made it seem like I just entered an ongoing abyss. Without changing, I threw my boots to the side, collapsed on my bed, curled into my sheets like the twins, and passed out.

* * *

"Hey, Max?" a small voice asked; I slowly looked up from my iPod. Angel was standing in the doorway of my bedroom, digging her shoe into the carpet.

I sigh, already knowing what was coming, "Yeah, Ange?"

"Mommy wants to see you," she inclined her head, her blue eyes locking onto mine.

It was Thursday, and I had stayed in my bedroom all morning except when I left to shower. I had even skipped breakfast just to avoid talking to my mother. When I got out of the shower, I had thrown on a pair of extremely ripped black skinny jeans. Along with those was a gray tank-top that had a navy blue American Eagle on the front. Then I slid on some gray Chuck Taylor tennis shoes and a chain with a black feather hanging off of it as a necklace. With that done, I dried my hair as fast as possible and then shoved a black beanie on top of my blonde hair.

"Fine," I moan, getting to my feet. Angel reaches up and takes my hand, smiling up at me with that adorable look she always maintains.

She sighs, "Max, is everything okay with you and Mommy?"

I ruffle her perfect blonde curls with my fingers, "Not really, sweetheart. But you don't need to worry about it because I'll make it better," I declare with what I hoped was a convincing smile. Angel slowly nodded as we reached the foot of the stairs. She squeezed my hand and then skipped to the living room where Gazzy was waiting for her with red finger paints, a dinosaur toy, and three of her plastic Barbie dolls.

"Take a seat," Mom said as soon as I entered the kitchen.

I dropped down at the dining room table, drumming my fingers on the top. "Look, Mom, I know I messed up, but-"

"Don't," she holds her hand up to me, silencing the rest of my speech. "I'm going to speak, and you're going to listen without opening your mouth even once. Do you understand?" she remained standing, hands placed strictly on her hips. Biting my bottom lip, I slowly nod to tell her I understood; she dropped her hands and then came what I was waiting for. "You have _once again _gone with your instincts and gotten yourself in trouble, but this time it's costing _me. _It's costing this family, Maximum. With Angel's bills already on my hands, I don't need to owe more money for something that shouldn't have happened in the first place!

"This has gone on for too long, Max. You're almost eighteen; you should know better than to steal a motorcycle and then speed without your license! This is costing more than a thousand dollars plus a terrible image on this family. You have messed up for the last time, Max. You're going to change. You _will _make the cross country team because I know you can, you _will _be getting a job anywhere in this town, you _will _be paying off your own debt, and you _will _succeed in school this year. Do you understand me?" even though I was dying to snap back at her, I knew I couldn't.

So, I slowly nodded instead, "I understand," I murmured quietly. This could seriously not get any worse; I had to participate in school and get a job because of my stupid mistake.

She nodded then stuck her hand out, "Give me your iPod." I was wrong; it just got ten times worse.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Yeah... it's been a week or so, hasn't it? Sorry about the slightly overdue upload. Stuff had been happening and this took a while since my mind was elsewhere. Anyway, here's the chapter._

_Chapter Fifteen_

Later that morning at school, Nudge caught me by my locker. I wasn't deaf; I heard all of the people around me talking about my stunt. The only thing was they didn't know it was me; whoever saw me snatch Nick's motorcycle wasn't able to catch a glimpse of my face. That was a relief since the last thing I needed were some cliché high-school rumors starting up. Not only that, but my stupid locker just wouldn't open for me; my iPod wasn't anywhere close to help me. It was as I was hitting my fist repeatedly against my locker door that Nudge came up to me.

"Whoa, Max!" Nudge grabbed my forearm, stopping my fist from colliding with the locker. I was breathing heavier, and my head was pounding harshly. "Jesus, are you alright?!" she exclaimed, keeping her hand on my arm as if I was about to collapse.

I swallowed harshly, blinking rapidly, and murmuring, "Yeah, fine."

"I think your fingers are broken," Nudge was gripping my wrist as she scanned my punching fist. "I would know since I've broken my fingers on numerous occasions. Like this one time when I accidently slammed my door on my fingers when I was really mad at my parents. Or there was that other time when my cousin stomped on my fingers. We were playing hide and go seek, so I was hiding under my bed and he just got to frustrated that he stomped his foot. Apparently, my fingers were sticking out and neither of us noticed until I shrieked at the top of my lungs.

"Man that was a rush! Then there was that time where-," but this time I instantly jumped in.

"Nudge!" I exclaimed, cupping my own injured hand. She blushed a bit, shrugging sheepishly while I examined my fingers. "No need to get a nurse," I insisted.

"How do you know that?"

"This," I muttered.

She shrieked when I started cracking my knuckles one by one. It hurt like hell, but the last thing I needed was to go to the nurse where she would most likely call me mom. If she called my mom, my mom would tell Omega and I really don't want to talk about it. Nudge's high-pitched shrieking had Iggy rushing to her side in a matter of seconds. And where Iggy is, Nick trailed after him because he really has nothing else to do around here since he doesn't talk. I shook out my hand just as Iggy and Nick rounded the hallway corner, Iggy looking slightly panicked.

"Nudge!" he yelled exasperated as he stopped in front of us. "What's with the shrieking like a banshee?!" he gasped, clearly out of shape.

Her big brown eyes turned to him, "I just saw Max "fix" her injury."

I laugh at the quotations she puts around the word with her fingers. Nick looked at me, silently asking what happened and why my locker was slightly dent. "Got a little angry," I shrugged it off; he didn't say anything as Nudge went into a rant about how inhuman I was.

Iggy wrinkled up his nose at me, "You cracked your broken knuckles? Nick, would you mind looking at them?" he turned to the dark-haired boy beside me.

Before I could react, Nick gripped the wrist of my throbbing hand. I kind of wish I could tell you something about how love sparks immediately shot up my arm. But they didn't. The only thing that shot up my arm was this really painful zap that honestly made me want to crawl into a hole, curl up in my fetal position, and then just wait for death to come. Those were negative thoughts, weren't they? Why is it that every time I try to be slightly positive, the negative side of my brain punches the positive, drags it to a well, throws it in, and then covers the well with a heavy cinder block so the positive can't return?

Nick smirked slightly, his teeth flashing into view. I reached up with my good hand and poked at the tooth that was showing between his lips. "Nice teeth," I complimented; he gave me a weird look while Iggy looked like he wanted to burst out laughing. Shaking his head, Nick drags me closer to him by my wrist so he could continue his inspection. "Find anything yet, Sherlock?" I snapped, wanting to take my hand back, but he continued to ignore me. No surprise there.

"Are you okay now?" Iggy asked Nudge.

Nudge still looked slightly scarred, "That was such a bad sound. I'll never forget it," and she shudders in the most dramatic way possible. Using the hand that wasn't captured by Nick, I crouch as low as possible to reach into my backpack.

"Eat this," I toss her one of my mom's cookies. It had been in my bag for the past two weeks, but Nudge didn't need to know that much.

Nick raises an eyebrow at me, "How is that supposed to help?"

"Sh," I hissed at him, "Just wait for the cookie to work its magic."

Nudge looked at me as if I was insane, but she eventually took a bite of the cookie. For a few seconds, all was silent in our tiny group of four. Then, Nudge screamed; as in, she opened her mouth and let out a horror-movie blonde scream. You know what scream I'm talking about, don't you? It's when the blonde bimbo in a horror movie is running from the killer but then she trips over a nonexistent item and goes rolling down a hill that just happened to be there. That's when the killer stands over her, revs his killing item of choice, and she lets out that scream that makes your eardrums want to shrivel up and die. Yeah, that scream.

Iggy covers his ears with his hands. Nick places a hand over Nudge's mouth, effectively muffling the horror movie scream. "Thanks, Tooth," I pat Nick's shoulder; he shoots a deadly look at me and then suddenly wrenches my middle finger back and to the side. I scream this time; it was a short scream, but it was enough to get us even more looks other than the ones we were already getting. "What the hell, Nick?!"

He shrugged, "It wasn't set right," he mumbles.

"That doesn't mean you give me a fucking heart attack!" I clutch the hand to my chest.

Tooth gives me a weird look, "I didn't. You're just a pansy," he shrugged like this was the simplest thing to see when it comes to me.

"I'll have you know, _Tooth_," I snapped, "that I could take you down with one blow." To prove myself, I go to slam my fist into his stomach but he catches my hand. He shoves me back a little by my fist, his eyes darkening dangerously. "You're a little assho-"

"MAX!" Ratchet suddenly appeared as well; he was dragging Star behind him.

"What is with everyone screaming this morning?!" I exclaim, throwing up my hands.

Star apologized, "I'm sorry. He's just really excited because he heard something that your sister said today," she giggled.

"What did she say exactly?"

"I can't believe you're going out for cross country!" Ratchet cut off Star abruptly.

My expression hardened, "Oh. That."

"Yeah, that! How could you not tell me?!"

"Because I just found out this morning…? And because we aren't friends…"

"Hurtful!" he places a hand over his heart, pouting.

"But the truth," I deadpanned. "Look, I need to get to class even though my stupid locker won't open," but I didn't get to finish my sentence. Nick had raised his hand, hitting the side of it against a certain spot on the stupid locker. It swung open, slamming into the locker beside it; I glare at him, "Showoff," I muttered and grabbed the books I would need for my first three classes.

Iggy chuckled, "It's a gift!" he exclaimed.

"I can't believe you seriously didn't tell me about this whole cross country thing." Nudge was looking at me with this completely innocent expression in her eyes; Ratchet nodded his agreement.

I slammed my locker shut, "Oh, my god! I don't even want to try out, okay? Besides, it's not like I have to tell any of you anything. I'm going to class, and don't follow me," I stalked away, my ears burning red in my anger.

* * *

Later that day, I was sitting in the lunch detention room when Nick walked in. I trailed my eyes after him as he went to the teacher at the front of the room. I am slightly ashamed to admit I was sort of hoping he'd suddenly rip off his shirt, sweep me out of my seat, and fly us away on midnight black wings. He spoke in a low voice, not allowing any of the interested five other students hear anything. Eventually, the teacher nodded and scanned his eyes over the people in the room. Nick stood to the side, his arms crossed over his chest so his biceps were forced to flex; I wanted to drool and die at the same time.

"Miss Martinez," the teacher said, making my attention snap away from Nick. "You're going with Mr. Ride, pack your things and get out," he ordered.

I didn't both arguing, knowing it was totally useless. I threw all of my stuff together, threw my bag over my shoulder, and left with Nick leading me out of the room. As soon as we were in the hallway, I abruptly dropped my bag to slam Nick against the lockers closest to us. His breath left him in a single puff; I glowered, "What do you want? Why did you make up some lie to get me out here?" I hissed.

Nick quickly gained his normal breathing pattern back. With his dark eyes narrowed, he flipped us and slammed me against the lockers. "Don't question me until you know what's going on. Grab your stuff and come on," he started walking away.

"You expect me to follow you?!"

"Yes," he spoke as if he was explaining something to an angry three-year-old.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall stubbornly. "I'm not leaving, Tooth," I snap.

"Are you always this stubborn?"

"Are you always such a douche to girls?"

The look he gave me told me he was getting more and more annoyed with me. "Follow me before I drag you kicking and screaming."

"Yeah, okay," I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"You sure you don't want to do this the easy way?"

"Do _what_? I don't want to get raped or something," I pointed out oh-so-smartly; he ran his fingers through his hair, muttering under his breath. "It's impolite to murmur under your breath."

He shrugged and quickly advanced towards me, "Let's go," he demands darkly.

For a second, I just stare at him and at the darkness of his eyes. I swallow harshly, choke a laugh out, and look away from his eyes quickly. His eyes were probably the most intimidating things about him besides his muscles and tattoos. "No," I snap, refusing to meet his gaze; he muttered some more before he got even closer to me.

"Suit yourself," he said in monotone.

Next thing I know, I'm a sack of potatoes on a stupid's lugs shoulder. I yelled so many curses I'm pretty sure I ruined the next generation during those few minutes. Nick didn't bother putting me down or telling me to cut it out; he pretended I wasn't even there. Repeatedly, I slammed my fists into his back but it didn't do anything; he didn't even freaking flinch. I huffed, going limp and letting him carry me because I knew it was no use. I could probably kick him in the balls and he wouldn't do much more than flinch and glare at me before continuing his walk.

"Where the hell are you taking me?!" I demand furiously.

Of course, he doesn't answer me as he confidently walks past the students that watched us as we passed. Most of them were in the cafeteria, but stragglers stayed in the hallway. Rumors of Nick raping me would probably be all over the school before last period. Eventually, Nick shoved a door open with the hand that wasn't keeping me from falling from his shoulder. Although his shoulders were pretty broad… would I even be able to fall from something this broad? I don't have enough time to answer my own question before I dumped onto a cold bleacher.

Nick smirked, "Mom," he said, "I got her."

I raised an eyebrow in question, about to make a witty response until someone else spoke up. "Miss Martinez!" a gorgeous, thin lady came rushing over to us. She planted a kiss on Nick's cheek and he wiped it off when she was no longer looking at him. Finally this boy had some humanity. "Thank you for finding her for me, Nicholas," she happily says. I couldn't help but wonder if she's going to be another Nudge where she's always happy and giggly.

"Who are you again?" I spoke up. Nick rolled his eyes and the woman giggled.

"I'm the cross country coach!" Nick brought me straight to the one place I don't want to be: tryouts.


End file.
